


Old Blood

by dustandroses



Series: Old Blood [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Author's Favorite, Blood Play, Bondage, Community: Fall_for_SX 2011, Community: tamingthemuse, Consensual Discipline, Demons Made Them Do It, Dom/sub, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rough Sex, Under A Spell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Spike and Xander accidentally get caught up in a dangerous spell, it sets them on a course that could have deadly consequences for them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scene of the Crime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ozsaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsaur/gifts).



> Beta by Ozsaur, my hero and shit, who went above and beyond on this one.
> 
> Written for []()Fall_for_SX 2011, on Live Journal.
> 
>  **Canon Notes:** The story takes place the summer between Seasons Four and Five. I've taken some liberties with the back story, as regards the canon events of Season Four, most particularly concerning Xander and Anya's relationship and Spike's role in Adam's schemes.
> 
>  **Special thanks** to Trillingstar for her quick wit and willingness to brainstorm silly ideas at the drop of a hat. (Most specifically in regards to Subdivision Names and the Fingerbones of Doom!)

  


“Locust Hill Cemetery. What is up with that? Are there really locusts out here? How would we know? What does a locust look like anyway? It’s just a grasshopper, right? A grasshopper on steroids, maybe. ‘Cause they swarm. Locusts swarm. I remember reading about that in high school.” Xander shuddered, and Spike rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. The big bad vampire isn’t afraid of a swarm of thousands and thousands of locusts.”

“Why should I be?” Spike shrugged, blowing smoke out over Xander’s head as they walked along the path. “They’re just a bunch of bugs. I’ve got my shit kickers on; they’re more than a match for any insect, individually or in a swarm.”

“Yeah, right. Tell me all about it when they swarm into your mouth and you have to swallow them before you can talk.” He shuddered again, his face drawn up into an exaggerated cringe.

“Berk. You know, fried locusts are a delicacy in some parts of the world.”

“That’s disgusting.” Xander swallowed heavily, looking as if he was fighting another shudder. “If you want me to ever spring for another blooming onion, you will never mention that to me again.”

Spike sighed heavily and stomped away shaking his head as if merely being found walking beside the dolt would be an embarrassment. It was just a sham, though, and he was fairly certain that the boy knew it. If he had to be stuck out on the edge of town searching an ancient graveyard that even the majority of demons had abandoned years ago, at least he’d lucked out and drawn Xander as his partner for the evening. He much preferred the boy’s company to that of the slayer, or even the two witches.

For a good three or four months Spike had gotten stuck on patrol with the whelp and his demon bint, watching as their relationship slowly ground to a painful halt. She’d demanded so much from Xander, but hadn’t been willing to offer the same to him, and it had been exhausting just watching it from the sidelines. Once the two broke up, she’d stopped patrolling, which was a great relief for everyone involved. Xander’s angry tirades had completely disappeared and patrols had become much easier to deal with. Of course, the rest of the group had all played sympathetic for a week or two, switching up the patrol schedule so they could each spend time with Xander. Spike had dreaded it for a while, never knowing who he’d get saddled with. But obviously, they’d thought two weeks was a sufficient mourning period for a relationship of over a year. Now that Adam was defeated and summer was upon them it was back to just the two of them, and that suited Spike just fine.

He did his best to maintain his big bad attitude, but these days, the acid-sharp bitterness of his and Xander’s arguments was fading to companionable jostling and the one-upmanship of friendly bickering. It was easy, and while Spike wasn’t really sure if he was truly pleased with being comfortable around a walking happy meal, he’d decided to let himself enjoy it while it lasted. He’d gotten enough of the slayer’s caustic disposition and the watcher’s snide comments to last him the rest of his hopefully lengthy existence. Between the bloody soldier boys and those two, he felt he’d earned himself a little comfort. The way his luck was running these days, it wouldn’t last long, anyway; something would come along soon to blow it all to hell.

Spike frowned as they closed in on their next target, his senses suddenly on alert. Something unusual was happening close by, he could feel it skittering across his skin like spiders across a web. The closer they got to the crypt, the worse the feeling got. Bugger. It looked like they’d found something; possibly the demons they were after, or it could be something else. Xander had caught up to him by then, still going on about swarms and such rot, but Spike silenced him with a hand over his mouth as he pulled the blighter off to the side, near a bench memorializing someone’s dearly beloved mother.

Spike got up close, whispering in Xander’s ear. “Shut the hell up, you nob. I’m not sure what it is, but something’s not right, and it’s coming from the crypt we’re supposed to be searching. You stay out here, and I’ll go inside and see if I can sort this out.”

Xander grabbed his arm, pulling Spike’s hand far enough away from his mouth to whisper in reply. “The hell you will! If your spidey senses are going off, I’m going with you so you have some back up. Why are you teaching me to fight in the first place if you plan on sidelining me every time there’s any danger? Besides, I don’t want to get stuck out here if you’re going to be in there. What if some oogedy-boogedy attacks me while you’re gone? Not that I would need your help or anything, I can take care of myself. I’m a man, with the manly fighting and protecting myself from oogedy…”

Spike rolled his eyes. It was almost impossible to get a word in edgewise with this crew. “I’m not sidelining you, you berk. I need you to keep watch so you can warn me if anything approaches while I’m inside. As soon as I know what’s going on, I’ll come get you so we can make a plan of action, right?”

He understood Xander’s frustration; the boy’d been dismissed as inept by the slayer and her watcher for too many years. He’d been so excited when Spike had started teaching him a few basic self-defense techniques to keep him out of trouble while Spike killed the more dangerous demons. But he needed to remember that he was still backup; it was Spike’s job to take the risks.

Frowning, Xander nodded reluctantly. “Right. I can do that. Watching your back. That’s a big responsibility, a manly man’s job, with the watching and the…warning.”

“Yeah, that’s you, Butch. C’mon, let’s get up closer to the door. Move quietly now – no noise.”

Spike took the lead, casting his senses out in all directions. Something was definitely not right, and it had the stink of magic to it. He sighed heavily. He hated magic, it never caused anything but trouble.

By the time they reached the final resting place of Leonard Chapman, Spike was fairly certain there was nothing but the wind moving the trees in the surrounding area. He could hear nothing but silence from the crypt. That didn’t stop him from being careful, though. Something was setting his nerves jangling, and the fact that he couldn’t find it just made matters worse. He set Xander up a few steps to the side of the entrance, and after another careful listen, he opened the crypt door and slipped inside.

It didn’t take Spike long to realize he was alone in the small chamber; there were no entrances in the rock walls besides the door he’d just used, merely a few small slits near the ceiling to circulate air, and some cubbyholes for candles. The rock floor was solid, and the only other feature of the room was a waist-high, ornate marble sarcophagus. There was litter in the corners, sticks and leaves, an old candy bar wrapper, a moldy blanket, the old bones of what looked like a few household pets – he saw a broken collar with a bell on the tag. Something had used this tomb in the past, but whatever had eaten the family dog was long gone.

There was a splintery wooden board leaning up against the sarcophagus, probably two feet square. Spike couldn’t read the writing on it from that awkward angle, so he picked it up, just as the door opened behind him. The board clattered loudly against the marble as he dropped it, turning swiftly to see Xander peeking hesitantly into the chamber.

Frowning, Spike stalked over to him. “Didn’t I tell you to stay outside?”

“Spike, this place is so old that even the dead don’t visit anymore. If there’s trouble stirring, it’s bound to be in here and not out there.” He stopped, obviously waiting for something, then, when Spike just stared at him, he sighed. “So? Is there?”

Spike shook his head, “Nothing.” He stepped back. “Well, come on in, then. Let me have that torch, I’m trying to see if I can recognize this language.” He went back to the board, shining the light on it, trying to suss out the words and strange figures that took up a large percentage of the surface. It looked demonic in nature, but despite the extra illumination, he still couldn’t read the faded words. The scent of old blood was strongest here. He thought that the dark words were written in blood, and it didn’t smell human.

Xander struck a match against the stone wall, the scent of sulfur overpowering the other smells in the room for a moment. He lit the candle in one cubbyhole, then used it to light the others, until the room glowed with the flickering light.

“That’s better.”

He glanced over at Spike, who stared at him, one eyebrow raised. What the hell did he think this was, a tea social?

“Hey, you took my flashlight. Some of us don’t come equipped with night vision, you know.” Xander defended himself. “We need assistance to see things like…” he glanced down at the bones at his feet, nudging them with the toe of his sneaker, revealing a tuft or two of once-white fur, “Fluffy? Does that tag say Fluffy?” He cringed. “Okay, so maybe we don’t need to see _everything_.”

Spike smirked at him. “Something wrong, Butch?”

Xander glared at him, pointing his finger. “Hey! Even macho men are allowed to feel a moment of sympathy for the loss of some old lady’s pet poodle.”

Spike snorted. “Anything you say, Butch.”

Xander abandoned the site of Fluffy’s untimely demise and peeked over Spike’s shoulder. “What the hell is that?”

Spike dropped the board back onto the sarcophagus in disgust. “I dunno. I can’t figure it out. It looks familiar, as if I should be able to translate it, but the words don’t make any sense at all.” He shone the torch into the corner with Fluffy’s remains in them, examining them closer.

“You think those bones are related to this?” Xander was bent over, staring at the board and its strange symbols and odd words, his candle dropping dollops of wax on the surface.

Spike used his boot to dig beneath the bones, checking to see if there was anything else there that might be causing this unease he couldn’t seem to get rid of. “ _Something_ strange is going on here. I smell old blood and incense, and the scent of magic makes me want to sneeze.”

“Of course there’s blood, doofus, we’re in a crypt.”

When Spike turned his head, a comeback on his lips, he realized Xander was tracing one of the complicated patterns on the board with his fingertip. Before he could warn Xander off, Spike’s senses were overwhelmed by the scent of fresh blood. He didn’t remember moving, but there he was - so close to Xander that there was hardly a breath between them. Xander startled, pulling his wounded finger back from the splinter that had torn it open, shaking drops of blood onto the board before sticking the wounded finger into his mouth.

Gasping at the eroticism of the sight, Spike pulled Xander’s finger out, watching hypnotically as a drop of blood welled on the tip, licking his dry lips hungrily. Xander’s smug chuckle distracted him, and Spike glanced at him as he turned up one side of his mouth in a sexy sneer that, surprisingly, looked quite at home there. His face was flushed, his pupils so dilated that his already dark eyes looked black in the flickering candlelight.

Xander ran his bloody finger across Spike’s bottom lip, and Spike licked it off, gasping at the flavor – heady stuff, that – old blood and fresh, sparking with magic and heavy with lust. Spike moaned in sensual bliss and Xander smiled that crooked grin once again right before he pushed his finger into Spike’s mouth. Spike sucked avidly, seduced by the taste but trying desperately to stay out of his true face, hoping that Xander wouldn’t come to his senses and end this moment.

Spike’s cock hardened, his senses sharpening as he focused on Xander, whose heartbeat seemed to echo loudly in the chamber. His skin felt so sensitive that he could almost sense the change in the air pressure that signaled the moment Xander’s breathing changed from inhale to exhale. The taste of blood, combined with the strong, inebriating scent of arousal almost overwhelmed the tingle of magic that crackled on his skin, but Spike knew that something important was happening – the very air was sparking like a live wire and he shivered with anticipation.

Xander laughed, a deep, chilling sound and Spike opened eyes he hadn’t been aware of closing, losing himself in the dark, hypnotic gaze. Pumping his finger in and out of Spike’s mouth, Xander stepped closer, wrapping his other hand around the back of Spike’s neck, running his fingers through the fine hair on his nape. The taste of warm, salty skin made Spike’s mouth water, and he sucked harder, bringing his tongue into play, rasping against the pad, hoping to tease another drop out of the jagged tear. It had been too long since he’d tasted human blood.

Xander pulled his finger free with a soft pop, and Spike opened his mouth to try and steal it back, but then Xander’s mouth was there, and he opened wide as Xander attacked him with lips and tongue and teeth, as ferocious an assault as any he’d felt in ages. Fierce and aggressive and totally in control. Eagerly, Spike surrendered to the powerful onslaught, pulling Xander closer, pressing tightly against him, hips pumping forward to find friction, something to ease his growing hunger, or maybe to incite more.

Spinning Spike around, Xander drove him backwards aggressively, his heavier build pressing Spike against the door. Spike could have fought him to a standstill, being a vampire had its advantages, but he had no interest in doing so. There was nothing he liked better than a pushy, dominating lover. He’d had to play the aggressor with Drusilla for far too long, he was overdue for some time to enjoy the pleasures of surrender, and Xander was certainly proving himself equal to the task.

He trapped Spike’s arms over his head, in a grip that was tighter and more secure than he would have expected out of Xander, despite the time spent on a construction crew. Xander’s knee between his legs gave Spike the perfect angle to rub against his hip bone, creating the most amazing sensations; friction and pressure sending him soaring with pleasure. Xander bit down Spike’s jaw, sharp, sucking bites leaving his skin tingling and burning. Spike tilted his head to the side, giving Xander as much room to play as possible.

The candlelight seemed to flare and blaze, sending out shimmering sparks that felt like static on his over-sensitive skin. He gasped, his head swimming in the sensory overload. Xander’s dark, low voice seemed to echo in the chamber, despite how quietly he spoke, his mouth pressed against Spike’s throat. The words seemed familiar, but for some reason he couldn’t understand them, their meaning slipping away from his consciousness even as he tried to hold on to the sounds.

Xander let go of his wrists, hands moving to Spike’s waistband, fingers strong and sure as they released the buttons of his jeans, jerking the fabric apart to reveal Spike’s aching hard-on. His eyes closed in bliss as Xander’s hot fingers closed around him tightly as he gasped in relief. He hadn’t noticed Xander freeing his own cock, but suddenly, he was pressing them together, the heat of Xander’s flesh searing Spike’s as he jerked them both with a tight, rough-edged grip.

He held onto Xander’s broad shoulders, feeling the muscles bunch and flex as his rough, calloused hands pulled the two of them closer to orgasm. Xander bit him again and again, Spike’s neck burning from the stinging nips. He panted, gasping for air that seemed too heavy to breathe, thick with magic and the almost tangible flavors of lust and hunger. He tried to stop breathing, aware that the panting was doing nothing but making him light-headed, but it was too difficult to concentrate and he gave up, letting his body react however it would to the heady stimuli surrounding him.

When it came, the sharp, harsh bite pulled a loud shout from Spike, his eyes opening in shock as Xander threw his head back. More of those strange words emerged from his bloody lips, his eyes glittering as the candles flared. They came simultaneously, backs arching as they both cried out, Spike’s orgasm almost as much pain as pleasure. The moment stretched out, seeming to last forever, then Xander collapsed, his body crumpling as if he was a puppet whose strings had been cut. Spike followed him down, his back braced against the door, still gasping, sucking in air that was suddenly cool again, the heavy, oppressing scents gone in an instant.

He explored the ragged bite on his neck, fingers coming away bloody. Grinning, he hunted in his coat for a semi-clean handkerchief, wiping up blood and come off them both, his smirk growing as he took the opportunity to examine the whelp’s equipment. Not that he hadn’t seen Xander’s todger a few times when they’d lived together in his parent’s basement, but with Xander still out for the count, it was easy to get a better view. He was nicely built, and Spike wondered if he’d get another chance to get up close and personal with it, or if this had been a onetime event.

As he finished wiping off Xander’s fat cock, the boy finally stirred sleepily, stretching luxuriously before stiffening, his eyes popping open in shock as the recent past obviously came back to him in a rush. He let out an undignified yelp as he realized who was wiping his cock clean and scrambled away, cursing and batting at Spike’s hands.

“Hands! Inappropriate touching with the hands and the…” He came to a stop against the sarcophagus, blushing bright red. “Okay, if my recent memories are anywhere near the vicinity of correct, there was so much more touching than just the hands.” Xander flinched away from the sight of the various substances coating the rag Spike held out to him, choosing instead to wipe his sticky fingers on the dusty floor of the crypt.

Spike smirked at him and stood, tossing the rag in the direction of the sarcophagus, chuckling when it landed on the board that had started all this. It seemed an appropriate place for it. He stretched his neck in both directions, shrugging his shoulders to settle his duster before smoothing down his shirt and tucking his cock back into his jeans. Xander watched all this, looking slightly dazed, before finally snapping out of it and shaking his head vigorously, as if to clear it.

“Okay. I’d really like to be able to say all this never happened, but even I’m not quite that much of an idiot.” He scrambled to his feet, rushing to hide his cock from view. “Even so, I’d like to suggest that we keep this to ourselves.” He wiped his semi-clean hand against the leg of his pants, grimacing at the smear it left across the cloth. “What do you say? Complete silence on the strange and unusual events that happened in the creepy crypt? Sound okay to you?”

Spike sighed. Looked like the excitement was over. Well, at least for now. He was sure he’d get a lot of mileage out of this once the berk had stopped panicking. “Sure, Butch. We’ll keep it just between the two of us.” He looked critically at Xander: the sticky mess of bodily fluids staining his pants, his shaggy hair in disarray, a smear of Spike’s blood on the corner of his mouth. “I think we should pay a quick visit to your basement on the way back to the Watcher’s flat. A change of clothes might be appropriate, don’t you think?”

Xander nodded rapidly. “Good idea, fangless. Let’s go.”

Xander rushed out of the crypt as if on fire, obviously in a hurry to put as much distance between himself and the scene of the crime as possible, rattling on about vampire mooches who really just wanted to snag a beer or two while he changed clothes. Spike, on the other hand, glanced back into the chamber regretfully, his eyes drawn to the sarcophagus, attracted by the wisp of smoke rising from the dirty rag sitting on the board. He caught the faint scent of incense and smiled wickedly. If he was lucky, this might not be over, yet.


	2. Dirty Dealings Dale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Xander's subdivision names in this chapter were Trillingstar inventions.

Spike was staring at him again. Xander shifted in his chair and looked quickly back at Giles, who rambled on, unaware of Spike’s unsettling new habit, caught up in his detailed description of what a Pelznoft demon looked like. At least these demons weren’t haunting graveyards. That was a welcome change of pace. No tombstones, no sarcophaguses in creepy crypts, no doors that the sexy undead could get pushed up against while you discovered that parents didn’t tend to circumcise baby boys back in the eighteen hundreds. Or maybe that was a British thing? There was no way he was asking Giles, that was for sure.

Blinking, Xander realized he’d totally lost track of Giles’ monologue which was currently overflowing with watcherly enthusiasm about their latest demon disturbance. He had to admit, frightening owners into leaving their homes, so they could buy them cheap and sell them at a profit was a new one. Most of the demons _they_ ran across were looking for munchables, not money.

Of course, Anya was impressed; there was a definite gleam in her eyes as she listened attentively. Xander was tempted to ask if she wanted to take his place on patrol tonight, but he doubted very much Spike would wait around patiently while she talked shop and perused potential boyfriends. He didn’t think the prehensile tail would be a problem for Anya, but the third eye might, even if it was usually covered by their shirts. He hoped she eventually found someone who loved money as much as she did, she deserved some happiness. He was just glad they’d decided they made better friends than lovers; she was too…greedy for him. Fucking bitch.

Whoa! He shook his head. Where the hell had that come from? That had been happening to him all week – odd thoughts popping into his head, things he’d never have done or said, but that felt so _right_ at that moment. He didn’t think that way about Anya, he really didn’t. Then again, he didn’t want to kick the homeless guy that sat outside his favorite convenience store in the teeth, either, and he’d come close to giving into that impulse this evening on his way home from work when stopped in to pick up some soda and a loaf of bread.

He kept finding himself seconds away from punching the person holding up the line at the grocery store, or pushing someone off a girder at work, or tripping Giles as he walked past with a cup of steaming hot tea. He felt one side of his mouth curl up in a sneer, thinking about lunch today, and the two bimbos who couldn’t decide on curly fries or onion rings, and the way their eyes would have widened, right before his sword cleaved through their necks, their heads flying in tandem through the air to land with meaty thuds in the open cash register of the moron behind the counter.

“If you can’t tell them from humans by looking, how the bloody hell are we supposed to find the buggers?”

Spike’s loud voice jarred Xander out of his fantasy. He drew a deep breath, shocked at the violence of the vivid imagery, and relaxed his hands, which had curled up into tight fists in his rage. Willow was staring at him, her eyes narrowed in question, and Xander sighed in relief when Giles diverted her attention.

“Ah. That would be where Willow comes in. Uh…Willow?”

“Oh! Right.” She gave Xander one last, suspicious glance before shuffling through the stack of papers in front of her, pulling out a page of printer paper with a list of addresses. “I have a list of the people who’ve recently placed their homes for sale far cheaper than expected, or who’ve lowered their asking price dramatically in the last several weeks. Some of them have already sold – there’s an x by those – and if there’s a star in front of them, the owners have already moved out.”

Spike left his regular spot on the stairs to lean against the wall, closer to the rest of them, where they were spread out around Giles’ coffee table. He glanced quickly in Xander’s direction, and he got the idea that Spike’s question had been timed, distracting them from Xander’s behavior before he’d done something stupid. Spike was watching out for him, and wasn’t that a freaky thought.

He wondered if maybe he should come clean about ‘the incident,’ as he’d begun calling it when he wasn’t repressing all memory of the event. He didn’t like hiding things from Willow. He wasn’t sure he was ready to share the fact that he’d spent patrol last Tuesday macking on Spike, though. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready for that. He decided falling back on his old buddy repression was his best option, and tried to focus on what was going on around him.

Giles pulled a map out of the middle of the pile of papers and books that littered the coffee table. “It’s fairly obvious that they’re targeting this subdivision.” He tapped on one section of the map with a long, thin finger.

“I suggest you concentrate your efforts there for the next few nights, taking this map and the list of the addresses with you. If you see the opportunity to investigate any of the newly abandoned houses without raising suspicion, that would be a bonus, but you should focus on trying to locate any of the Pelznoft, and hopefully following them back to their headquarters. That way, when Buffy returns from visiting her father next week we’ll have some firm facts, and can create a plan of action.”

Spike leaned over the map, examining the area circled in red. “Happy Valley? Who comes up with these names?”

Xander snorted. “Doesn’t sound like it’s a very happy valley right now. Maybe they should have called it Took All Your Money and Ran Valley or Crushed Your Dreams Canyon.”

Giles sighed and leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes, but Tara grinned at him and that was all the encouragement he needed. “How about Pathetic Pines? Ripped You Off Ravine?” Willow giggled at him, and he breathed a secret sigh of relief. Distracting her was definitely of the good. “Oh, I know! Dirty Dealings Dale. Hope You Have Good Insurance Gorge? Underhanded Arroyo--”

“Any chance you can find a map with a close up of this subdivision on your laptop, Red?” Spike interrupted, shaking his head at Xander’s juvenile humor.

“Hey, I was on a roll, there.” Xander grouched good naturedly, relieved that the mood of the gathering had lightened somewhat. When Willow opened her laptop and started hunting for maps, speaking quietly to Tara as she typed, Xander glanced back at Spike, who was staring at him again, his face a neutral mask that gave Xander no indication of what was going on inside his head.

By the time they were halfway though Happy Valley’s questionable hot spots, Xander was totally fed up with Spike’s silence. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be able to think of anything to say that wouldn’t be considered an act of aggression, so he was keeping his mouth shut, teeth clenched against the ugly words that were piling up inside his mind. He had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t want to start a fight with Spike while he held the knowledge of last week’s break with reality over Xander’s head.

Oh, but it was tempting. He wanted to either rip Spike’s head off, or rip him a new one, or maybe just rip his ass open as he fucked Spike bloody. And he had the feeling that Spike wouldn’t object. He was a vampire, after all, and blood was blood, right? No matter who it belonged to.

“Blackthorn Lane.”

Spike’s words brought Xander slamming back into reality, and he fumbled for the paper with the addresses on it, pulling it out of his jeans pocket.

“That’s on the list, right?” Xander blinked to focus, pulling out a flashlight for the night-blind human and shining it on the wrinkled page.

“Um…yeah. There it is. Actually there are two houses, looks like they’re pretty close together. And they both have a star, so the houses are empty. Let’s check ‘em out.”

Xander’s ugly mood seemed to have lifted; he felt suddenly buoyed up by a strange, almost manic humor, which he struggled to contain. He was beginning to worry about these mood swings. He was actually looking forward to the breaking and entering portion of the evening, but he couldn’t decide if it was the thought of getting away with a little B&E, or simply relief that, at the moment, he wasn’t contemplating slaughter.

It was getting kind of late for the suburbs, so a good number of the residences on the street were dark. The houses in question were next to each other, their sad For Sale signs swinging in the slight nighttime breeze. One of them had a high fence all around the back yard and a sign warning of some alarm company, so they took the path of least effort and started with the other one. It didn’t take long to get inside; Spike’s skill with a lock pick was definitely impressive. Xander wondered if he could get Spike to teach him, strictly in pursuit of the greater good, of course.

The inhabitants had obviously left in a hurry; there were scattered pieces of furniture in the living room and the den, bags full of trash in the hall, and a poorly boarded up window in one bedroom let in enough moonlight to show the broken window pane behind it. The sink in the master bathroom dripped steadily, and in the dining room, one lone chair tilted drunkenly on an obviously broken leg.

The kitchen still had junk in the junk drawer, and there was spoiled food in the refrigerator. Spike examined the broken window above the sink carefully, but there was no way to tell what had happened, except that whatever had broken the glass had come from the outside, since the sink held a number of jagged pieces of glass. They were getting a little discouraged, but then Xander noticed the card held to the ‘fridge by a magnet shaped like a mushroom.

“Bingo! Pelznoft Real Estate. Need to sell in a hurry? Trust us with your home; we’ll take good care of you!”

Spike snorted. “Only a Pelznoft would put it all out there for us like that. Dense bastards. They have no sense of subtlety. None whatsoever.”

Xander shook his head. “There’s even an address and two phone numbers. The only thing missing is a neon sign pointing directly to their lair.” Grinning widely, he tucked the card into his back pocket before brushing his hands together briskly. “Looks like our job here is done.”

He was totally unprepared for Spike’s attack, pushing Xander into the counter, knocking his head against the cabinets behind him. He felt Spike wince when the chip went off, but it hadn’t really hurt that much, just surprised him, and it certainly didn’t slow Spike down. He pressed his body full-length against Xander’s and murmured into his ear.

“Oh, no. I think we’ve just begun.” Spike’s kiss was reckless and hungry, pushing his tongue into Xander’s mouth, aggressive and searching for control. Xander felt something inside him snap, and he shoved Spike away, hard. He followed Spike as he stumbled backwards and hit the refrigerator. The look of astonishment on his face made Xander chuckle deep in his chest, right before he caught Spike’s jaw in his hand and pulled him in for a kiss, showing him how it was really done.

Spike battled with him for control of the kiss, but Xander could tell his heart wasn’t really in the fight. He felt the moment Spike surrendered, his body sagging into Xander’s, and he smiled against Spike’s mouth, reveling in the exhilaration of total command. He pressed tightly against Spike, one hand slipping between the ‘fridge and that tight ass and squeezing harshly. Spike thrust his hips urgently into Xander’s, their cocks coming into contact and making them both moan.

In a corner of his mind, a part of Xander was running around in circles shouting: ‘Warning, Will Robinson! Warning!’ But goddamn, this felt good. He had no idea where this overwhelming aggression was coming from, but it felt so _right_. When the kiss ended, he stepped back, nodding approvingly at the sight of Spike’s swollen lips, his chest moving with unnecessary breaths, as he leaned heavily against the ‘fridge.

“What the hell are you?” Spike’s voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Does it really matter?” Xander shrugged. “You just do as you’re told, and everything will be fine.”

Spike shook his head. “You have to be careful. Both Red and the watcher were suspicious tonight. They were close to asking questions you don’t want asked.”

“Yes. I saw that.” Xander walked over to the kitchen sink and picked up a large shard of glass. “You did well, tonight - distracting them. Don’t think I didn’t notice.” He held the glass up to the window, the faint moonbeams glittering off the edges. “You deserve a reward.”

Xander turned, leaning back against the sink, laying the shard on the counter beside him. He gave Spike a slow perusal, down and back up again, pausing at those swollen lips. “Come here.”

Spike hesitated for just a moment and Xander thought he might have to enforce his mastery of this vampire this early in their relationship. But then he stepped forward until he stood between Xander’s widespread legs. He pulled Spike to him for another kiss, and this time there was no fight. Spike opened his mouth and let Xander in, and Xander took his time, his hands wrapped around Spike’s head, holding him at just the right angle, fucking Spike’s mouth with his tongue, and feeling more alive than he’d ever felt in his life, freed by the surrender in Spike’s every move. Perfect. Spike was perfect, and he belonged to Xander. Of that, he had no doubt.

When the kiss ended, he smiled at those plump lips, running his thumb across them before nipping the bottom one with his teeth. “You have such perfect lips.” He put his hands on Spike’s shoulders, pushing him down. “Why don’t you show me what you can do with them.”

Spike raised one eyebrow slyly, then slid down Xander’s body until he landed on his knees, his cheek and lips grazing the bulge in Xander’s pants. He took his time unbuckling and unzipping, taking every opportunity to tease Xander by brushing casually against him, pressing his knuckles against the head of Xander’s cock as he slowly unzipped his pants. But Xander didn’t mind, he liked the tease, and he was certain he was in for a treat. He’d met Angelus, and he had a feeling that Spike had been well trained.

He felt his lip draw up in a snarl. Never again. Spike belonged to him now, and Xander did not share. Spike’s tongue felt cool against his hot skin as he ran his tongue from the base of Xander’s cock up to the tip. He shuddered. Damn, if he didn’t focus, this wasn’t going to take long at all. He watched Spike as he got to work, sucking on the head, teasing the slit and making Xander’s hips pump slightly, unable to control the responses Spike was drawing out of him.

When Spike shifted slightly, Xander was unprepared for the way he swallowed Xander down, his throat working around the head. He cried out, and he could feel Spike’s amusement even with Xander’s cock down his throat. Spike eventually pulled back and sucked on the head again, licking broad stripes up and down the shaft and flicking his tongue along the bundle of nerves at the base of the head.

Xander had been content to be a passive participant until now, but he was getting close, and he needed to finish what he’d started before he blew his load. He closed his hands around Spike’s skull and pulled him back, away from Xander’s cock. Spike looked up at him in surprise.

“I think I promised you a reward.”

He grabbed the shard of glass from the counter and sliced shallowly across his left palm, the bright, sharp pain making his cock pulse and jump, even as he heard Spike gasp. He held his hand over his hard cock, the bright red drops spattering over the head and along the shaft. He could see Spike fighting his game face, and although he’d have liked to see the beauty of the vampire’s real face, he appreciated the control he held over his nature, especially when Xander’s cock was in such close proximity to Spike’s open, panting mouth.

“Don’t waste it, now. And don’t let it spill on my pants.” His words were firm, and brooked no argument. Spike ducked his head, licking so fast he was almost a blur, making sure he got all Xander’s blood. Xander let his left hand fall to his side, the blood spattering onto the tiles as he gasped and panted, Spike’s agile tongue doing amazing things to his cock. He held onto the counter behind him with his free hand, trying to stay on his feet.

Finally, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pushed Spike back, and grabbed his cock with his bloody hand, jerking frantically as he came, careful to aim his come at Spike’s face, getting as much as he could on that beautiful, stark visage. Spike closed his eyes, but he didn’t try to move, a look of pure abandon on his face. Xander leaned against the sink until his breathing calmed somewhat and he felt strong enough to unlock his knees and stand on his own again. Spike hadn’t moved. Except for his heaving chest, he could almost be taken for a statue.

Xander held out his hand, “Open your eyes.” Spike glanced up to Xander’s face for permission before taking Xander’s hand in his own, licking it clean of the combination of blood and come that coated his palm. Xander was pretty sure it wasn’t the first time Spike had tasted that particular mixture. Once Xander’s hand was clean, he looked for permission again, then began cleaning off Xander’s cock, the lukewarm tongue pleasurable on his skin, although no longer arousing.

When Xander was clean, Spike tucked him back into his pants and zipped him up, then sat back on his heels, looking up at Xander hesitantly, obviously unsure of what was next. Xander lifted his foot and put one sneakered foot down on top of the bulge in Spike’s jeans, rocking his foot back and forth.

“I want to see you jerk off.”

Spike laughed shakily, the first sound he’d made in some time, besides a few moans at the pleasure of tasting Xander’s blood. “Well, this won’t take long.”

Xander grinned, planting his shoe back on the tile floor. “I didn’t think it would.”

Spike was unzipped and out of his jeans in seconds flat, his fist tight around his cock, stripping it rapidly, his hips moving in circular patterns, grinding his cock against his palm. Xander was fascinated by the sound of his gasps and moans, rubbing his own cock through his pants, even knowing there was no way he’d be able to come again so soon. Spike didn’t close his eyes when he came, focused as he was on Xander’s, but his face rippled once or twice before he finally gave in and let his human features melt away as his true face took over.

His come spattered onto the tile floor, some falling over the drops of Xander’s blood in what Xander considered a proper tribute to how all this had begun. He waited for Spike’s breathing to calm and finally stop before he nodded and stepped away, heading for the back door.

“Be sure you clean up that mess before you leave.”

Spike snorted behind him. “With what?”

He turned and caught Spike’s eyes, making sure he had his total attention before he spoke. “With your tongue, of course.”

Then he walked out the door, leaving Spike behind. He was a supernatural creature of the night, Xander was sure he’d catch up in no time. He’d better have left that floor spotless, though, or there would be a punishment in his future. What the hell, maybe there’d be punishment in his future in any event. Spike was sure to do something to earn it.


	3. Shut Up and Bend Over

Spike heard the sound of his heartbeat right before the door opened and Xander waltzed into his crypt like it belonged to him. Spike got out of his chair and turned off the TV, watching Xander warily.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Spike pulled deeply on his fag before flicking ash to the crypt floor. He watched Xander carefully, unsure of which version he was facing: the bumbling, friendly young man who made him laugh or the sadistic bastard that could make him hard with half a dozen words.

“Put that thing out and come over here.”

Spike dropped the cigarette to the floor without thinking, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot. Right then, looked like it was the sadistic bastard for this go around. He was already half-hard, and he repressed a shiver with effort. His eyes dropped instinctively, but he refused to go down that easily, he had questions to ask. He looked back up defiantly, his jaw working as he bit back an automatic comeback. Crossing his arms over his chest, he blew his lungful of smoke at Xander, feeling somewhat like a recalcitrant child.

“Now why would I want to do that?”

Xander looked Spike up and down coldly, as if he were a particularly rank side of beef. “I said come here.” Xander’s voice was deceptively quiet, but Spike recognized the implied threat in the tone and reacted immediately, stepping forward until he was only a few feet away.

“That’s better.”

Spike swallowed but spoke up, despite his nervousness. “We need to talk. The watcher and the witch are worried about you, you know. They think something is wrong with you, and they’re likely to start digging around and find something.”

“Well, you‘ll have to keep up the good work distracting them then, won’t you?” Xander stepped closer, running his hand across Spike’s chest, thumbing Spike’s nipple and watching it harden under his touch. He pinched it lightly between finger and thumb, smiling faintly as Spike arched his chest into the touch. “As long as you keep your mouth shut, they’ll never know a thing.”

Shaking his head, Spike tried to focus on their conversation, despite the arousal coursing though him. “It’s not that simple. They may be totally blind, most of the time, but once they’ve set their teeth into something, they can be as bullheaded as -”

Spike gasped as Xander twisted his nipple cruelly and he closed his eyes, riding though the pain as it transformed itself into a burst of pleasure. Bloody hell but that felt good.

“Strip.”

Spike’s eyes popped open, and he pulled his t-shirt out of his pants without comment, pulling it over his head before tossing it into a corner. He licked his lips as he went down on one knee to untie his boot. Xander’s hand curled around the nape of his neck, warm and possessive. Spike pressed back into it, looking up at him hungrily.

There was that sly grin of his again. “You look good at my feet, Spike. If I didn’t need you at my back, I’d never let you up, except to put you in my bed, of course.”

His words struck Spike like a fist. It had been a long time since anyone had trusted him at their back. He felt a heady surge of pride and took a deep breath, the strong scent of arousal making him dizzy with lust. He leaned closer, nuzzling into Xander’s fly, feeling the hardness there waiting for him. “Shall I?” he asked, his voice muffled by the cloth of Xander’s jeans.

“Not today.” Xander pulled Spike’s head back, then ran his fingers along Spike’s chin, “I have other plans for today. Get those jeans off. Now.”

Spike bent back to his task, switching legs to get the other boot off, using all his speed to get the laces untied as quickly as possible. He knew he was being distracted from the things he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how to get back on track. As he stood to unbutton his fly, he hesitantly tried again.

“If you want me at your back, I need to know what’s going on, don’t I?”

Xander frowned at him. It was amazing how different he looked in sadistic bastard mode; that look was not a friendly one. Spike stepped backwards, stumbling over his jeans, barely catching himself on the back of his chair as Xander stalked in his direction.

“I’ll tell you what you need to know, when you need to know it. If that’s a problem for you, you’d better tell me now. If not, shut up and bend over.”

Spike dropped his eyes as he hurried to comply, kicking his jeans away and turning over to face the back of his chair, legs spread wide. His cock, which had softened slightly during their brief confrontation, stiffened in response to the surge of adrenaline running through him.

Oh yeah, that was the stuff. This Xander knew what he was doing, alright. No more bumbling boy, this was a man in charge, and Spike loved it. He felt Xander’s hands on his arse, pulling his cheeks wide apart, bending over to blow warm air over his hole, sending Spike’s mind reeling with the dizzying sensations. He knew he’d been sidetracked into not asking the questions he needed to ask, but he could deal with that later. He wasn’t about to try and put a stop to this. Questions could wait.

He heard Xander unzip his jeans, then his cock was rubbing up and down against Spike’s crack. There was a brief moment when he thought Xander was going to fuck him raw, and he wondered if he should speak up and let Xander know that he had lube between the cushions of the chair. He could take it – Angelus had always enjoyed fucking him that way, and as hard as he was, it’s not like he’d notice it for long. Then he felt the cool slick of lubed fingers pressing roughly into him, and relaxed. The new Xander had come prepared.

He didn’t spend much time opening Spike up, but that wasn’t a problem. He was eager to get that fat cock of Xander’s inside him, and had no interest in drawing things out. As soon as the fingers disappeared, Xander’s cock was there, pressing in hard and fast, and Spike pushed back against him, the raw burn making him moan in pleasure.

Xander pushed in then stopped, buried inside Spike. His chuckle made Spike shiver when he whispered in Spike’s ear. “I like that. That’s what I want to hear from you, moans and gasps - and begging. I think I’d like to hear you beg.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re getting it right now, then. Please! Move your arse!” He worked the muscles in his arse the way that had always worked when Angelus had gotten all high and mighty about who was in charge, and it worked. Xander gasped, his hands clenching convulsively on Spike’s hips.

He pulled out slowly, teasingly, and Spike gritted his teeth in frustration as Xander’s cock slid out of his hole. “Ah! No. Fuck me!”

Xander let go of one hip and used that hand to hold his cock steady, allowing him to play with Spike’s arse, nudging up against his arsehole, popping the head in and out. Spike growled, and tried to thrust backwards onto his cock, but Xander rode with the movement, laughing at Spike’s obvious frustration. Spike knew he could use his enhanced speed and strength to force himself on Xander’s cock before he could stop Spike, but he had a feeling that might end this encounter, and cause him a world’s worth of trouble, so he held back, despite his exasperation.

A sharp slap on his cheek brought his attention back to Xander. “I said I wanted to hear you beg.” Another slap had Spike trembling, not in fear, these were just love taps to Spike, but his need ratcheted up higher and higher with every strike. A series of staccato blows stung his hip and he capitulated – not because he had to, this was nothing to what he’d been subjected to in the past, but because he wanted more, and that was obviously the only way he was getting fucked tonight.

“All right!” He stopped short when words brought another flurry of slaps, this time to his other cheek. “All right. Please?”

Xander huffed. “Say it again. And this time, make me believe you.” He reached around and twisted both Spike’s nipples roughly.

“Bloody hell!” Another twist, and Spike squirmed, trying to pull out of his grasp, but the bastard was stronger than he expected, and held on until Spike stopped, panting heavily.

“Please?” He frowned, he hadn’t meant that to come out sounding so pitiful, but Xander let go his abused nipples and Spike gasped in relief. He didn’t give Xander time to change his mind. “Please? Please, fuck me? I’m begging you.”

Xander drove back in until he was balls deep inside Spike. “That’s more like it.”

Finally, he began to fuck Spike, who held onto the chair, at first in shock at the ferocity of Xander’s rough, grinding thrusts, and then in self-defense; to avoid being pushed right over the top of the chair and onto the stone floor beyond it. When Xander shifted forward to lean across his back, Spike couldn’t help his loud shout when the change of position raked Xander’s hard cock across his prostate.

Xander chuckled in his ear again, something Spike was definitely coming to appreciate, and aimed his cock at that spot on his next go around. Spike heard the sound of cloth tearing right before he realized his fingers were knuckle-deep in the heavy padding of his chair, then Xander hit his sweet spot once again and he closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the pounding rhythm of their bodies.

It was only when Xander’s hand closed around his cock, tugging and squeezing, that Spike realized he was pleading softly, “…please, please, please…” The bite to the back of his neck surprised him, although it probably shouldn’t have, but then Xander _growled_ , shaking his head to tear the soft skin of his nape, and the sharp, sweet pain sent Spike flying into his orgasm, his cries echoing off the stone walls.

He felt Xander come not long after, as he was floating slowly back down toward the earth, but he was having trouble focusing on the mundane world around him, so he wasn’t actually paying a lot of attention. He sighed regretfully as Xander pulled out, but didn’t actually have the strength to move. Xander said something he didn’t bother to listen to, but he jumped, spinning around indignantly when he felt three sharp slaps to his arse.

“Oi. What the hell was that for?”

Xander looked angry. “When I speak, I expect you to listen.”

Spike backed down, realizing he’d overstepped his bounds. “Sorry, but someone just fucked my brains out my ears. Give a bloke time to come back down to Earth next time, won’t you?” He knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn’t help it, he was well shagged, and it was hard to focus under the circumstances.

Xander sighed heavily as if he couldn’t be bothered to discipline him at the moment. Well, he had just expended a large amount of energy. If Spike was lucky, maybe he’d save up his indignation for next time.

“I want you to show up for the meeting Friday night.”

“What? The whole thing?” Spike usually avoided the annoyingly dull research and review portions of the evening, coming in just in time for the patrol assignments.

“As you pointed out, they can be particularly obstinate when they get their teeth into something. Buffy will be back on Friday. I need you there, watching my back.”

“Oh.” Well, that was different, wasn’t it? It still amazed him that Xander trusted him like that. “Right, then. I’ll be there.”

Xander nodded sharply and left without another word. Spike shook his head. He had trouble understanding how the others couldn’t see the difference between the sadistic bastard and the bumbling boy; to Spike it was like night and day.

He stretched, enjoying the feeling of well-used muscles, then went looking for his kit. His jeans were easy to locate, but it took some time before he found his shirt on the other side of the room. Too bad about Friday; he had a basket of kittens all lined up for the poker game at Clem’s. Hell, the game would start early enough; he should be able to get in a few hands before he had to leave for the watcher’s flat.


	4. The Intervention

Xander was sure he was going crazy. The rage inside him multiplied every day, and every day it was harder to control. It was as if he’d somehow lost his ability to censor himself – all the dark, ugly things he usually managed to keep buried were right there, just below the surface. If he wasn’t careful they’d come bubbling out, and someone was liable to get hurt. Today, he’d found himself a hand’s breadth from actually pushing some little old lady into oncoming traffic, simply because she was walking too slowly for him. That’s when he realized he had to do something, or he was likely to commit homicide, and the way he understood these things, that would be very bad for his karma.

What worried him the most was that these days, he felt most comfortable around Spike. When he was with Spike he didn’t have to fight to keep himself in check. Spike knew the dark, ugly Xander, and he liked him just the way he was. When he was with Spike, everything fell into place. It was like they fit together in ways he’d never felt with anyone else before. The problem was that when he wasn’t around Spike, he knew that person wasn’t someone he wanted to be. That’s why he fought it so hard. Unfortunately, it seemed to be a losing battle.

What he and Spike did together made sense to him - perfect sense, in a way that the things he’d done in the past with Anya and Faith, and to an extent, even Cordelia, never had. Not in a heterosexual vs. homosexual way, either. He still loved the women – that was definitely not a problem. It was clear to Xander now that his trouble with the women in his life had been that he wasn’t the one in charge. Once he felt that power, an overwhelming sense of rightness had slipped into place, and he realized what had been missing in all his past relationships. When he stood over Spike, giving orders, making demands, Xander knew he was where he belonged.

And Spike loved it. It was obvious that he’d been well trained, and the demon in him responded eagerly to Xander’s wishes. That was part of what disturbed him, though. There had to be something wrong with what they did, if it came so naturally to a demon. Xander understood, at least partially, the hierarchy that many demon cultures were based on; his stint with the hyena spirit in high school had brought that into clear focus. But he wasn’t a demon, and despite how right it felt, Xander just couldn’t get past the feeling that what he was doing with Spike was wrong.

He didn’t have a problem with playing rough during sex. He could never have gotten off with Faith, if that had been the case – and boy howdy, had he gotten off! Anya, with all her years of experience, had been far more adventurous in bed than Xander would ever have dreamed of being, and he’d never had a problem with anything she’d wanted to try. He’d been a little hesitant over the thought of things going in the out door at first, but once she’d shown him how much pleasure the prostate could offer a man he’d swallowed his pride and never looked back.

She hadn’t been interested in being tied up, but Anya had loved the idea of cuffing him to the bed and playing the dominatrix. Her idea of BDSM, was more on the side of teasing him with pleasure than torturing him with pain, and that suited him fine. He didn’t have any interest in pain. Well, at least not receiving it. He could definitely handle the thought of giving it out. As a matter of fact, it was all he could think of, these days. And it wasn’t just Spike he wanted to hurt.

No, Xander wanted everyone cringing in pain at his feet. He wanted to make them all suffer for no more reason than to hear them beg him for mercy. He found himself watching his favorite old slasher movies with a new eye, critiquing the modus operandi of Jason and Freddy Krueger, taking notes and comparing them with his own ideas for finding more vicious and bloodthirsty techniques for causing mayhem and pain.

That’s why Spike was so perfect - an evil, soulless demon with a deep submissive streak and the perfect leash to keep him under control. As long as he had that chip in his head, he’d have to rely on Xander to keep him in fresh, human blood. Xander had no leash, and he’d quite enjoy keeping his vampire happy and sated - in more ways than one.

As he saw it, his main problem was Buffy and Willow. Spike had headed off a potentially troublesome confrontation last week, yet another reason to keep him around. Until Xander figured out a way to rid himself of the Scoobies, he needed Spike to run interference. If it weren’t for the Hellmouth, he’d take Spike and leave Sunnydale behind, but he liked the energy here. He could close his eyes and feel it buzzing through his veins, malevolent and hungry. It suited him. He could be perfectly happy here with Spike at his side.

He stopped in the courtyard outside Giles’ apartment. Hopefully, Spike was already here, he could use someone in his corner. It wasn’t that Xander couldn’t handle them, he was simply frustrated that he still needed to. He was feeling more in control these days; it seemed the more time that passed since that night in the Chapman crypt, the easier it was to restrain his childish impulses and keep himself focused on the important things.

He couldn’t squelch those impulses entirely, though; he had to keep up a front at his job, as well as around the Scoobies. They weren’t ready for the real Xander; they simply wouldn’t understand. They expected to see their bumbling, irrepressible friend, with his off-key jokes and bright, cheerful smile. So that’s what he’d give them for now. He chuckled; they’d meet the real Xander sooner or later, although he wasn’t sure they’d appreciate him as much as Spike did. Besides, it wasn’t as if he no longer had a sense of humor, it was simply much darker than it used to be.

“Xander!”

He had only a second to turn and brace himself for the blonde bundle of slayer that slammed into him, her arms wrapping firmly around and squeezing tightly. He gasped for breath, and she loosened her hold on his ribs, allowing him to inhale creakily. She didn’t let go, but she did pull back a bit to stare into his eyes.

“Hey, Buff. Good to see you, too.” His grin felt strange, as if he hadn’t been using those particular muscles enough recently, and the stretch was suddenly uncomfortable.

She narrowed her eyes, staring at him critically. “Well, you still look like Xander. What have you been doing lately to make Willow and Giles so nervous?”

“Who me?” He blinked his eyes innocently. Damn, Spike was right; they were watching him more closely than he thought. “You know me, Buff, I never do anything wrong.” He wiggled his fingers in front of her face in a complicated pattern, his eyebrows rising and falling in an exaggerated fashion. “These are not the droids you’re looking for.”

She smiled at him, rolling her eyes. “Don’t use your Jedi mind tricks on me; I am totally immune to your evil powers.” She finally let go of him, linking his arm in hers, pulling him down the stairs to Giles’ apartment.

“So how was L.A.?”

“Oh, you know. The usual.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Lots of shopping, expensive meals, trying to make up for two years of not spending any time with me in one week’s worth of extravagances.”

“Took him for every penny you could guilt out of him, huh?”

She grinned mischievously. “You betcha.”

Xander grinned back. Her enthusiasm was rubbing off on him. It got easier, sometimes. He never knew when he’d break out into mean Xander, but being around the guys usually made him feel more like his old self. At least for a while.

Buffy didn’t even stop on the landing, throwing Giles’ door open wide. “Hey, guys. Look who I found skulking around in the courtyard!”

“Xander!” Willow abandoned her spot on a bar stool, hurrying over to make it a group hug, and for a moment, it was like the last two weeks had never happened. His mood swings were getting more and more dramatic – less than three minutes ago, he’d been in the throes of Evil Xanderdom, and now he was on top of the world.

Giles closed the door behind them and stepped around the puppy pile of Scoobies to go back to his spot near the fireplace. “I’m glad you could come, Xander. We have some things to talk about.”

“Uh oh. That sounds ominous.” He looked around the room. Spike was nowhere to be found. It would be out of character to ask specifically about him, but his wasn’t the only face missing. “So where are Tara and Anya?”

Willow looked at Giles nervously, then pulled Xander over to the couch, where Buffy and Willow arranged themselves on either side of him. This was looking worse by the moment. “Ummm. Tara is back at the dorm; she has a test tomorrow in biology and needs to study.” She glanced back at Giles, biting her lower lip, which meant she was lying. You didn’t spend most of your life watching Willow’s nervous habits without learning that she always bit her lip when she lied. Willow was a really bad liar.

Obviously, Giles could sense Willow’s discomfort, even without knowing her since kindergarten, because he stepped in before she dug her hole any deeper. “Tara and Anya will not be joining us this evening. We thought you might be more comfortable discussing the disturbing new developments in your behavior without them.”

Well, fuck. Where the hell was Spike?


	5. The Bastard

“Bloody fucking hell.” Spike was late. Very late. He’d said he’d be at the watcher’s for today’s meeting, but he’d gotten caught up in the poker game and completely lost track of time. He was almost an hour late, and Xander was not going to be best pleased. He didn’t mind the thought of a pissed off Xander when they were in bed. Well, if they ever made it to an actual bed, that was. That kind of anger just made the sex even hotter – and it was bloody hot already.

What had Spike upset was that he had let Xander down. With the old Xander that wouldn’t have mattered as much – that boy was used to disappointment, although he honestly wouldn’t have gone out of his way to do so, even then. He'd kind of grown used to the berk, and he'd started to enjoy their time together, playing pool or just sitting around watching movies on the tube. It hadn't been torture at all. When you spent most of your time alone, any time spent in agreeable company was a relief. Not that he needed comfort, or any such thing.

Disappointing Sadistic Bastard Xander, as he’d come to think of him, was different. Xander had told him he trusted Spike at his back, and Spike had said he’d be there. He got the idea that Xander suspected there would be trouble tonight, and Spike had left him to deal with it alone. He’d let Xander down, and now he’d have to pay the piper.

If he were extremely lucky, nothing would have happened, and he’d show up in time to spend an hour or two baiting the slayer before they divided up for patrol. He doubted that he was that lucky, however. Xander turning into a sadistic bastard was the best thing that had happened to Spike since the chip, it wasn’t likely his luck would hold. No, chances were this would be very bad, indeed. As much as he approved of the idea of a little punishment for some random misbehavior, he had no interest in any true disciplinary action, and he suspected that being a sadistic bastard and all, Xander was definitely capable of it.

Speak of the devil. As Spike turned the corner onto the watcher’s street, he saw Xander, walking in his direction, away from the meeting that should have just been winding up to a rousing hour or two of research/coffee klatch/giggling schoolchild fun and games. He looked furious. Spike hesitated, swallowing nervously, but then kept walking, meeting Xander half-way. When they got close, he stopped, expecting Xander to do the same, but Xander kept going, so Spike turned and followed, catching up after a few steps. He took a breath to say something, unsure of what exactly, but feeling the need in any event. It didn’t matter what he might have said, though; he didn’t get the chance to speak.

“I don’t want to hear a word from you. Not one word.”

Xander’s voice was low; the calm of tightly restrained fury, and Spike shut his jaw with a snap, nodding once to show his understanding. They walked quietly for some time, Spike following Xander one step behind and to his right, watching Xander carefully. He stared straight ahead, not paying attention to anything around him. The way his jaw was clenched, his hands in white-knuckled fists at his sides spoke of a rage too powerful to express.

Spike had expected angry words, but this silence seethed with recriminations, and he had no choice but to accept them unchallenged. Not that he had any sort of legitimate excuse for his behavior. He had fucked up royally, and his gut roiled with concern over how this could affect their partnership, for despite the fact that he was willing to take a back seat to Xander’s leadership, he still considered this a partnership, one he didn’t want to end.

He shouldn’t care. He was a vampire, damn it, it was in his very nature to not give a fuck. If Xander wasn’t pleased with his behavior, then he could take a flying leap for all Spike cared. He knew that wasn’t true, though. He wanted this, whatever the fuck it was. He craved the sort of relationship he’d begun to develop with Xander – both of them. So he kept silent, hoping beyond hope that he hadn’t damaged this relationship beyond repair.

By the time they reached Xander’s basement, Spike was so jittery with nerves that he kept his hands in his pockets, to stop them from shaking. He followed Xander down the steps, still in silence, then stood inside the door, arms crossed over his chest, biting his tongue to stop from talking. He knew Xander was expecting him to be remorseful for his actions, but his behavior was just making Spike belligerent, and that could only lead to more trouble, so he did his best to keep it hidden.

Xander went directly to the still-pulled out bed, stripping off the blanket and top sheet before coming to stand directly in front of Spike, his eyes blazing angrily.

“You let me down tonight, Spike.”

Spike forced himself to drop his eyes. “I know.”

“Give me one reason that I should trust you ever again.” Spike looked back up, surprised that he was being offered a chance to explain. “Think carefully before you speak. What you say may mean the difference between going our separate ways, or my offering you a second chance.”

Spike took a deep breath to steady himself. He had to make a reasoned argument, and his mind was suddenly blank. He closed his eyes, remembering back to his years as a fledge, and focused on the times he’d stepped over the bounds, trying to regain that perspective – to locate that part inside of him that knew what Angelus had needed to hear before he’d be forgiven.

Unfortunately, his belligerence was making it hard to fall into the mindless acceptance he’d felt with Angelus. He was a hundred years older now, and a master in his own right. He’d fought hard to earn the respect he deserved, and despite his distress at the chance of losing what he’d found here, he was having a hard time balancing the needs of the present moment with his pride. Finally, he found what he was looking for, focused his eyes on the floor, and began to speak.

“I made a mistake tonight. I’m aware of that, but I know that what you’re asking for is not an excuse, so I won’t offer you one. I failed you, and I understand your anger, but I won’t promise to never do it again. I don’t make promises lightly, and I won’t make one that I know I can’t keep. I’m not perfect. I’m impatient and short-tempered, and I make mistakes, such as the one I made tonight. It could happen again, and you should be aware of that. What I can promise you is that I will do my best to never let you down again.”

The silence that followed that speech was deafening. He wanted to look up, to see what Xander was doing, what he was thinking, but he didn’t want to take that chance. He clung to the hope that the sound of Xander’s heartbeat was indicative of his mood, because it was steady and strong, and seemed to be slowing.

“Clothes off, face down on the bed, arms and legs spread out as far as they’ll go.”

Spike took the chance to look up for a brief glance as he stepped over to the bed, but Xander’s face was a careful blank. He was still here, and that was a good sign.

When Xander pulled out the cuffs, he wasn’t all that surprised. He’d spent a fair amount of time in this basement while the whelp was at work, waiting for the sun to go down; he’d had plenty of time to snoop. The box with the sex toys wasn’t out in the open, but it hadn’t been very well hidden from prying eyes. It smelled of Anya and Xander and sex, so of course Spike had to look inside. It made sense to him that Anya would be the adventurous kind; after all, she’d been a demon for over a thousand years. He had no doubt that most of the toys were hers. What surprised him was that she hadn’t taken them all with her when she left. The cuffs were distinctly masculine, so maybe she thought Xander would have more use for them than she would.

He tugged on the restraints surreptitiously. He could break them, if he put his mind to it, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well, so he’d try his best not to. If they continued with this relationship, if this wasn’t a final farewell fuck, he’d have to see what he could do about coming up with some vampire-proof chains. You never knew when they might come in handy.

After securing Spike’s second ankle, Xander stood there above him, quietly, taking deep breaths, his heart rate calming even more as the moments slid by. Spike was tempted to lift his head to see what Xander was doing, but while he was in Sadistic Bastard mode, he felt it safer to avoid angering him further than he already had. Finally Xander spoke. As totally unprepared as he was to hear Xander speak them, it took Spike a moment to recognize the words as Latin.

“Silentii clausus totus sanus.”

Spike only realized that he’d been breathing along with Xander’s slow, steady breaths when the air in the room grew too thick to pull into his lungs. His ears popped a mere second later with the force of the return to normal, and a wave of magic pulsed through the room, a chill breeze stirring the fine hairs on his arms and legs, the feeling of a knife’s edge against the nape of his neck there and gone again in an instant.

The faint background noises Spike had been hearing subconsciously disappeared in that moment – the thready sound of the upstairs TV, two hearts that had been beating an unsynchronized tattoo in the back of his mind silenced, leaving him straining to pick up the sounds again. When the hell had Xander Harris learned to cast a muffling spell? He shivered. No one would hear a thing that happened down here, now. They were truly alone.

Xander tugged on his belt, the leather sliding out of the cloth in a whispered rush. Then he folded in half and snapped it, and Spike shivered, wrapping his hands around the chains holding the cuffs to the bed, his body tensing in anticipation. This was going to hurt.

He was right.

He lost track of time early on, but some moments were clear and remarkably vivid in his mind: the first strike - sharp and burning across his shoulders; the taste of blood as he bit through his lip trying to hold back any sound; the shock of the tangy scent of his blood the first time the belt wrapped around his thigh, the edge breaking the skin in a flash of white pain; Xander’s fingers running along the edge of one welt, his voice low in Spike’s ear as he promised him he wouldn’t think less of Spike for letting his screams out.

It seemed to go on forever, steady and relentless, until finally he broke down and sobbed into the mattress, pouring out all the horror and frustrations of the last year; Dru’s abandonment, the chip, the shame of being made to rely on his enemies for food and shelter, his horror at being helpless in the face of mere humans, the scorn and belittlement of the slayer and watcher, all of it pouring out of him until he felt empty of it all, a mere husk.

He wasn’t aware of Xander removing the cuffs from his wrists, but he must have, because he found himself in warm, human arms as Xander held him, wiping his face with tissues to rid him of his tears. He wondered if this was the Bumbling Boy or the Sadistic Bastard holding him, but he was afraid to ask, and break the peaceful silence between them.

Finally, Xander moved, laying Spike back on the bed and replacing the cuffs, and Spike figured he had his answer. He heard the slide of clothing as Xander undressed, and then he knelt on the bed and bent over, running his tongue over one particularly sensitive welt. Spike gasped, arching his back, unsure if he was trying to arch into the sensation or away from it – the mix of pain and pleasure was so intense. Xander chuckled above him and did it again, covering Spike’s back and thighs with his tongue, laving each and every welt he’d made, as if he were an animal cleaning Spike’s wounds. Spike arched and writhed, moaning and gasping at the sensations, his cock pulsing in time with Xander’s rising heartbeat.

By the time he’d worked his way between Spike’s thighs and tucked a pillow under his hips, Spike felt as if he was on fire. Borrowed heat from the welts and the warmth from Xander’s body made his muscles clench as he fought to control himself and not come all over the bed like a naughty school boy the moment Xander touched his tongue to Spike’s arsehole. It was close, but he managed, panting into the mattress with every thrust of that stiff tongue.

He remembered his lesson from the crypt, and started pleading, hoping that Xander would take pity on his situation and fuck him now! It took some time, and some inventive cursing, but finally, finally Xander lubed his cock and slid into Spike, up to the hilt, and struck up a fast and heavy pace – no teasing this time, just pounding fiercely into him, as relentlessly as he’d wielded his belt. The salt from Xander’s sweat stung Spike’s wounds, but that only heightened his fervor and he tightened his grip on the mattress, pushing back against Xander’s thrusts, his need to come overpowering all others, his gasping cries strangled as he strained against the cuffs.

Suddenly, the scent of Xander’s blood filled the room, his bleeding forearm thrust into Spike’s face. He latched onto the wound, and Spike’s world narrowed down to the pounding of Xander’s cock in his ass, the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears and the flavor of his blood, rich with lust and heavy with magic and the hint of old blood. When Xander bit the nape of his neck, he shouted against the cut flesh, refusing to give up Xander’s blood, even as he orgasmed, holding on to his human façade for as long as he could, before tearing his mouth away for fear of biting into Xander’s arm and ruining the moment with a splitting headache.

Finally he relaxed back into his human face and rode out the last moments of Xander’s orgasm sucking on the wound, until Xander collapsed on top of him. Reluctantly Spike bit his lip, using the coagulant in his own blood to stop the flow of Xander’s, licking his arm clean as Xander’s gasps finally slowed and calmed. Xander slid to the side, grabbing the sheet and blanket off the floor to pull over them, an arm and one heavy leg holding Spike in place.

Spike laughed at the ownership implicit in the weight holding him down. As if he could go anywhere with the cuffs still on him. At least the chances were good that this meant he was forgiven. He doubted Xander would offer his blood to Spike if he wasn’t. He was almost sorry to feel the human blood rushing through him healing the wounds on his back. It would have been nice to have a reminder of the night tomorrow when Xander was likely to be his normal self again, but he’d take what he could get, and these memories would have to last him until next time.


	6. The Boy Blunder

Spike opened bleary eyes as the scent of chocolate and milk reminded him he wasn’t in his own bed. He’d drifted in and out a good portion of the night; after all, he wasn’t used to sleeping when it was dark out. But trapped under Xander’s sleeping form, it was difficult to care. He’d reveled in the sensations of being held down, warm and secure and comfortable. He’d thought hard about what was happening to them, the strange ceremony that had started the whole thing, the mixing of their blood and come and the knowledge of the spell taking place around them.

Xander was at least somewhat aware of what was happening to him. What had Spike worried was where they were headed. He liked the boy, and he liked the bastard, and he had no idea if he could have both, or if he was doomed to be stuck with one or the other. If they were mutually exclusive, which would be left in the end?

The mattress jolted as Xander climbed onto the fold-out bed and sat down, leaning against the couch back and picking up his bowl of chocolate breakfast cereal before grabbing the remote and clicking the TV onto something loud and obnoxiously cartoonish. Spike sighed and rolled over, leaning on one elbow as what was obviously the Boy Blunder grinned at him nervously.

“Hey, Spike.” He shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, then spoke around it as he chewed. “There’s blood in the fridge, and the microwave is working for now – go figure – so you don’t have to heat it up on the hot plate.”

“This is the middle of my night, you know.” Spike stretched, grinning unrepentantly as Xander stared glassy-eyed when the sheet rode low over his hips revealing the trail of light brown hair below his navel.

Xander shook his head, to break himself out of his daze. “Right. But it’s my bedroom, and I get to decide how late we sleep, so shut up or go sleep in the bathtub.”

Spike shuddered. “Never again.” He scratched at the crusty flakes sticking to his pubic hair – funny how the guy on bottom always ended up in the wet spot. “I may need a shower, though.” He threw the sheet back and clambered out of the bed, heading for the refrigerator starkers. “After breakfast, of course.”

Xander swallowed heavily behind him and Spike sauntered away, laughing to himself. Xander would have to get used to having a nude man in his apartment if they were going to continue to fuck.

Later in the shower, Spike pondered the strangeness that was his life. He was having some of the best sex he’d had in years, he was drinking human blood again, and he had a psychotic for a lover. He laughed. Come to think of it, that sounded like his life before Drusilla left him. But this time the blood came from a blood bank’s rejects, and was supplied because The Bastard had plans that involved having him at full strength, not half starved and malnourished by slaughterhouse leavings.

Xander had apologized for the fact that he’d never noticed that Spike wasn’t eating right. It had taken The Bastard to bring it home to him that a vampire couldn’t live on meager rations of pig’s blood and still expect to maintain his strength. It had never occurred to Xander that perhaps the watcher had no interest in having a master vampire at full strength around his precious slayer and her Scoobies, even if he was leashed by a chip. He’d asked how much blood Spike needed, and how often he needed to feed, and Spike was touched by Xander’s sincerity.

It was a relief to discover that Xander, not The Bastard, knew how to cast a muffling spell. Spike hated mojo, and besides, he had a feeling that The Bastard was dangerous enough as was, without the added abilities of a witch or sorcerer. Willow had taught the spell to Xander right after he and Anya had started dating. Anya turned out to be quite a screamer, and Xander had been afraid of getting in trouble over having a girl in his apartment. Spike didn’t think that would actually be a problem, as long as he paid his father extra rent – the greedy pig would do anything for money, if he was willing to charge his own son the extortionate price he expected for this musty dump of a basement.

As they’d talked, Spike discovered that Xander remembered most of what had happened last night, but he admitted that he felt like he’d watched it from afar, as if someone else was using his body, and he were a passenger. It had been the boy that had held him as he cried, but by the time the cuffs went back on, the bastard had been back in charge. Spike had laughed at that, letting Xander know that as long as he was around, The Bastard would always be in charge.

“How can you put up with that?” Xander bit his lip, his eyes troubled.

“With what?”

“The way he pushes you around like that.”

Spike wondered if Xander realized that he was talking about himself in the third person. He wasn’t sure if he should ask – it was hard enough getting the whelp to talk about what was happening, he was afraid of making him even more self conscious about it.

“He beat the shit out of you last night, Spike, and you sound as if you admire him for it. Why don’t you hate him?” Xander sounded upset, as if he was afraid that Spike might associate him with what The Bastard was capable of.

“He had a right to be angry with me last night. I fucked up. From what you said, they all but put you under a microscope and dissected you, and while you seem to do well handling them when you’re yourself, when you’re The Bastard, you don’t have the ability or patience to handle the slayer and Rupert, let alone Red and her massive guilt trips.”

Xander nodded. “Yeah, he was totally out of his depths last night.” He hesitated before continuing. “He really could have used your help.”

“Why do you think he didn’t let you take care of them? After all, you could have handled their suspicions with no trouble.” Somehow, it seemed wrong to talk about him like this – as if they were telling tales behind The Bastard’s back, but it was the only way Spike could get any idea of what was going on. There was no way The Bastard was going to tell him anything. He’d already proved that.

Xander looked guilty, as if he were betraying a trust. “I spent all day Friday trying to decide if I should break down and tell them everything, Spike. He couldn’t take the chance that I’d blurt out the truth. If I tell them, they’ll kill him.”

The thought brought a chill. “You really think so?” He didn’t want to lose any part of Xander – he liked him just the way he was, even if he was as multiple personality as Angelus Mark II. “What do you mean, kill him?” He braced himself; he was going to have to bring up the subject, now. “The way you talk about him as someone apart from you – do you really think of him as a separate entity?”

“I don’t know.” Xander got up, pacing around the room, as if he couldn’t stay still a second more. “Every time I think about it, I end up with a headache, and my hands start shaking. He’s part of me, but he’s not me, and I don’t know how to explain it any better than that.”

After that exchange, Xander had refused to talk about it anymore. He’d asked questions though, and Spike had tried to explain as best he could the difference between domination and being a bully, how Angelus had been able to demand Spike’s respect, despite his viciousness, and how the demon inside Spike could accept a demanding master and still keep his own pride. He wasn’t sure he was completely successful in his explanations, but Xander seemed more content with their roles afterwards, and that had, in turn, made the rest of their time together easier.

Xander had definitely been the boy this afternoon, playing video games and watching scifi and arguing over the remote. In the early evening, though, the phone had rung, and Xander had agreed to meet the slayer and Red for a night at the Bronze. They promised that Giles would not be there, that there would be no interrogation, and as Spike had known would happen from the beginning, Xander bowed to the power of Willow’s persuasion. Before he’d left, though, he asked Spike if he’d be there when Xander got back.

“Do you want me to be here?” Spike asked hesitantly, unsure of his welcome.

“Um, yeah. That would be nice.” The blush was a nice touch. “I mean, if you need to go, that’s okay, too. But if you want to come back, you could stay here – for the weekend. If you want to, that is.”

Spike held back his grin with difficulty. “All right, Butch. I think I can handle that.”

Xander’s blinding smile was all the answer he got, but it was all he needed. Spike concentrated on that smile as he stroked his cock, the warm steam of the shower giving him the illusion of Xander’s warmth. The boy’s smile was almost as potent as The Bastard’s lopsided smirk.


	7. Rabble-Rouser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt Notes:** Chapter Seven drew inspiration from LJ's TamingtheMuse prompt #279: Rabble-Rouser. If you're a member of the comm, you may recognize a portion of this chapter. (Although it's much better now that it's been betaed.)
> 
>  **Special thanks** to Trillingstar for her crucial input on the Finger Bones of Doom. Several lines of Buffy's and Willow's dialogue are direct quotes from her side of one of our IM conversations.

Xander knew he was glaring at people again, but he found it hard to care. He had no interest in being there, but he was aware of the amount of suspicion it would arouse if he missed two meetings in one week, and he’d already canceled once, claiming a work conflict, uncertain if he’d be able to keep his control if he went. He felt stronger tonight, more in command of his child-like alter ego than just a few days ago, but when he was here at the Giles’ apartment, in the presence of his friends, the child was more likely to emerge at unlikely moments, and that made him jumpy.

Spike was watching him closely, and that helped. He felt more secure knowing that he had backup. The vampire was sharp, and quick-witted. If he slipped up too badly, he was confident that Spike would catch him before he got too far out of control. He’d already snapped at Giles, and made an off-color remark that had scandalized Willow; he couldn’t afford to raise their suspicions again. He was still trying to find a way to rid himself of this crew without them hounding him down and attempting to ‘cure’ him. He hated the feeling of being trapped like this, and of course that fed into his discomfort.

Spike’s wide-eyed stare made him concentrate once again and realize that he was practically growling at Willow again. Tara was frowning at him, and Anya looked puzzled, her head tilted to one side, as she often did when she had come across yet another human trait that confused her. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Spike jumped in, his bored, nonchalant air at odds with his sharp, alert eyes.

“This is bloody ridiculous. How many of the intermediate phalanx bones do they need to gather to make this all important paste?”

“The number is unclear. It seems to vary with regards to the sex and age of the person who is to become the seer their spell will create.”

“Why just the right hand, do you think?” Tara held out both her hands, eying them critically. “And just that one little bone?”

Willow took Tara’s right hand in hers, playing with the fingers as she spoke. “Well, the right hand thing probably has to do with the reluctance of many cultures to use the left hand for important tasks. Historically, they often considered it evil, or dirty, because they used the left hand for…ummm. That is, sometimes they – I mean…well...” Willow’s words died off awkwardly. If her blush got any deeper, she’d be as red as the cover of the book she was currently doing her best to hide behind.

Spike clearly knew what she was trying to say, but he led her on. “Do tell, Red.”

“Spike! You know!” Tara patted her shoulder understandingly, smiling faintly.

“You’re talking about the fact that many people use only the left hand to clean themselves after they evacuate, aren’t you?” Xander chuckled briefly. Anya always had managed to get to the heart of things. For her, evacuate was remarkably circumspect.

“Ewww.” Buffy took the purple lollipop out of her mouth, and stared at it, although Xander wasn’t sure how she was making the connection between ‘evacuation’ and a lollipop. He didn’t want to know, either. Of all Xander’s friends, the slayer was the one he liked least. He was angered by the way she treated Spike, and he’d come close to jumping up to stop her from challenging him earlier in the evening, when Spike made some offhand remark that angered her. She had best learn that Xander was a very possessive man, and didn’t take lightly to having one he claimed as his own abused.

Spike glanced in his direction, one eyebrow raised, and Xander schooled his features, wiping away the snarl he’d unconsciously raised as he thought of the slayer. He’d have to take care of her soon; she was wearing on his nerves.

“Yes, thank you for that image, Anya.” She smiled at Giles brightly, and he gave his glasses an extra wipe as he blinked at her myopically. “I’m sure that we can find a more suitable topic. Or perhaps we could go back to searching for spells that can turn a demon into a seer that include as an ingredient the intermediate phalanx bone.” As usual, Giles managed to bring the conversation to a dead halt.

Buffy wasn’t finished, yet. “I don’t get what this spell has to do with a mythical bird.”

Giles stared at her blankly, as did everyone else in the room until Willow spoke up, breaking their concentration. “You know mythical but not... Buffy, see, you are smart!"

Spike rolled his eyes while Buffy grinned at them smugly, sticking her lollipop back in her mouth, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked.

Xander watched, idly wondering how slayer powers would affect someone’s ability to give a blowjob. He smiled slyly when Spike’s spiteful response revealed his jealously of Xander’s obviously transparent attentions.

“Oh, yes, Mensa smart, I’d say. After all, it takes quite an IQ to mistake phoenix for phalanx.”

“Hey!”

Xander turned back to Spike, hoping his smile conveyed that he had no interest in Buffy that extended beyond the occasional fantasy. He was pleased to see Spike relax, draping his body over his chair, slouching as he spread his legs wide. Xander’s eyes traced his lean body appreciatively.

“Xander?”

He blinked, bringing his mind back to the situation. Willow was watching him worriedly, biting her lip again. It was uncanny the way the complex interplay of emotions between the Child Xander and his closest friend Willow allowed him to recognize the subtle differences between similar facial movements. The way she was biting her lip his time meant that she was concerned about something that she was afraid to mention.

“Huh?” He thought it best to go with thick and stupid.

“Are you okay?” She shrugged, playing with Tara’s hand where it lay clasped in her own, on the book in her lap. “I mean, you’ve been awfully quiet tonight.”

“Oh, yeah. Just tired. Busy day at work, you know? And sitting here not doing anything just makes me want to take a nap.”

As expected, Giles interrupted with a reminder. “Well, you could avoid that by reading the book you’re holding.”

“Yeah, right. Like that would keep me awake. Sorry G-Man, I can feel my brain cells grinding to a complete halt just thinking about it.” Xander tried drawing on the memories of his alter ego, struggling for what to say next. Fortunately Spike came to his rescue before he could make a mess of it.

“Did you know that there are twenty-seven bones in the human hand?” Spike held up his right hand, turning it back and forth as his thin, pale fingers flexed quickly up and down, like a magician threading a coin through them, performing some sleight of hand.

“What? What are you talking about Spike.” Buffy waved her lollipop at him, wielding it like a sword.

“Only two hundred and nine bones in the whole of the human body.” He stretched out, clasping his hands behind his head, his long, lean legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle.

“So?”

“So one quarter of all the bones in your body are in your hands. With twenty-six bones in each foot,” he waved a boot in her direction, “half of all your bones are in your hands and feet.”

“H-how do you know that, Spike?” Tara stared at him contemplatively.

“You sure you want to know, Glinda?” An image of Spike studying at Angelus’ right hand as they discussed the nature of human bones under severe strain flashed into Xander’s head in graphic detail.

She paled as she thought it out. “Oh. Maybe not.”

“The hands and feet are popular targets for torture.” Anya obviously knew where Spike was headed. “Hands have an enormous amount of nerve endings, and they’re so mobile.”

Giles left the room about then, and Xander thought of the time he’d spent in Angelus’ gentle care when they were trying to raise Acathla. That must have hurt like hell.

“Hands make the perfect place to start an interrogation,” Anya continued blithely, totally missing the distressed noises coming from the direction of the kitchen. “Or a perfect target for a vengeance demon.” She smiled fondly. “I once removed all the bones from the hands of a man who was more interested in masturbating over internet porn than he was in his wife.”

Spike was suitably impressed. “Now I like that. I pulled all the bones out of a spinal cord once.” Willow’s little squeak of protest got as much attention from Spike as Giles’ had from Anya. “Of course, the victim didn’t survive the experience, but I’ve always wondered how he would have got on, if he had.”

“That must have been difficult. Did you…”

“I do believe that is quite enough.” Giles came back into the room, slamming a tumbler half full of amber liquid onto the table next to his chair, sending what Xander was pretty sure was scotch sloshing over the rim. It looked as if they’d passed his threshold a while back, and he was now resorting to liquid courage. “Spike, do not encourage Anya. The last thing we need at the moment is someone inciting misbehavior.”

Spike widened his eyes innocently, one hand on his breast. “Are you calling me a rabble-rouser?”

“Well you have gone out of your way to make your presence known today, haven’t you? You’re mischievous and distracting, and causing far more trouble than you usually do.” Giles’ eyes narrowed, suspiciously. “For that matter, why are you even here this early? I think you should go elsewhere for now, and come back in two hours for the evening patrol.”

Spike gasped in mock distress. “Rupert, I’m wounded!”

Giles was obviously having none of it. “Go, now.”

“Bloody hell. I’m not a school boy to be sent home early from class.” Spike glanced at Xander, but of course, couldn’t say anything to him without revealing their arrangement. Xander stared at him, reminding Spike that he'd made it clear that he wasn’t ready for that. Spike kept his mouth shut, his angry eyes and clenched jaw revealing his distress.

Buffy stood, advancing on Spike. “Stop it, Spike. Giles wants you out, so you need to leave. Now.”

“All right, all right.” Jumping out of his chair, he strode angrily to the door. “I’m leaving.” He turned back, one hand on the knob. “Are you happy now?”

“I’ll be happy when I’ve seen the last of you.” Giles waved one hand imperiously. “But this will do for now.”

“Bleeding prig.”

Buffy took another step in his direction. “Out.”

With one last glance at Xander, Spike left, slamming the door behind him for good measure.

Well, Spike had certainly taken their minds off Xander, but now he was without backup, and he seethed inside, angry at Spike for getting himself banned, and angry with himself for needing Spike here with him. He should be able to handle this on his own. Unfortunately, he’d proven that he couldn’t, and now he was stuck for the next several hours alone.


	8. Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here

Giles took advantage of Spike’s exit to force everyone’s attention back to their research. It didn’t take long before he realized that Anya was eying him at every opportunity, and that worried him. The Scoobies tended to discount her based on her misunderstandings of human nature, ignoring her observations. But she noticed a lot, and it made him nervous that she was focusing her attention on him.

Finally he gave in to his unease, and closed his book with a snap, startling everyone in the room. Realizing everyone was now watching him, he shrugged self-consciously, hoping he wasn’t acting too far out of character. “I need a break. Donuts, anyone?”

He cringed inside, knowing he’d just perpetuated the idea of himself as the gofer, the goofy side-kick with no skills to speak of, aside from falling over and getting into trouble. Xander had been fighting that image for years, and he hated to remind anyone of it, but he had to get out of there soon or he was going to explode all over everyone, and that would definitely not help the situation.

He got out the door as quickly as possible, despite three sets of questions from Willow, Buffy and Anya, promising that he’d be back soon, he just needed to stretch his legs, and yes, he was carrying his stake and cross, and no, he didn’t need any company, thanks. He stopped in the courtyard of Giles' apartment, tilted his head back to stare at the night sky, and took a deep breath, relaxing for the first time in hours.

“About time you got here, you stupid blighter.”

He swung around, snapping angrily. “What the hell did you say to me, Spike?”

Spike dropped his eyes, staring at the ground in front of the wall he was leaning against. “Sorry. I’ve just been waiting for a long time. Wasn’t sure you’d get away. Didn’t know what I should do.”

He got up in Spike’s face, crowding him back against the bricks. “Don’t ever speak to me with that tone again.” He paused to make his point clear. “Do you understand me?”

“Said I’m sorry, didn’t I? Just been standing out here a long time, is all, trying to figure out what to do. Almost went back to the crypt, but it seemed a bit silly, having to come right back again later.”

Xander remembered Spike admitting that he wasn’t really welcome in the demon bars anymore, and even a single human could take him out - he’d be totally defenseless against them, so human bars were out as well. He nodded his understanding.

“Too bad you couldn’t stay in the apartment, but Giles was pretty adamant about you getting out. Next time, don’t push it so far. Giles is fairly sensitive about torture.”

“Right. Didn’t think about that until he kicked me out. I’d forgotten the number Angelus did on Giles' hands or I’d have never mentioned it.” He grinned wickedly. “Well, not when I needed to stick around, anyroad. Might make use of it in the future, however.”

“Just not when I need you with me.”

“Right.” Xander liked the way Spike shrugged self-consciously when Xander reminded him how much he counted on Spike, as if he wasn’t sure how to deal with a compliment. “It’s difficult. They don’t like me hanging about.”

“I know.” Xander backed away, turning to pace fretfully. “Hopefully, I’ll figure a way out of this soon.”

“We could simply leave. We don’t have to stick around here.” Spike looked nervous, as if he wasn’t sure exactly how long Xander would want him around. “They’re not going to help me get the chip out, and the Initiative is gone. I have no reason to stay.”

Xander shook his head. “No. If we took off, they’d hunt us down. They’d never believe I left of my own free will.”

“They’d blame me for it, I know that much.” He laughed shortly. “It would be Mr. Pointy for me, if they knew what we got up to of a night.”

Xander crossed back in his direction, not liking the idea of Spike in danger, but uncertain of what he could do to fix it. “I don’t want to leave yet, anyway. I like it here. The energy the Hellmouth gives off is exhilarating. I can feel it in my bones. It makes me hard.”

“Yeah?” Spike leered at him. “And here I thought that was me.”

Xander stepped closer, until they could almost touch. “Well, I have to admit, the way you sprawled over that chair earlier, spreading your thighs for me, showing off like that – I wanted to grab you by your hair and shove my cock down your throat.”

“I know.” He licked his dry lips. “I could smell you from across the room.”

“You could, could you?” Xander grinned. Too bad he didn’t have enhanced senses like that. He’d love to know what Spike smelled like right now. He looked like a wet dream, eyes wide with lust, licking his lips like he could almost taste Xander already. He leaned closer, rubbing their bodies together as he molded himself against Spike, their lips an inch apart. “Can you smell me now?”

“Oh, yeah.” He took a deep sniff, his eyes closing in pleasure. “You smell even better close up.”

Xander crushed their mouths together, tired of flirting, anxious to get to the point. Spike responded eagerly, moaning into Xander’s mouth, sucking on his tongue, his arms wrapped around Xander, hands squeezing his ass. Xander slid his leg between Spike’s, giving them both something to rub against, and they set up a quick pace, thrusting and arching and twisting together, desperately clutching each other in their eagerness for more.

It wasn’t enough. Xander pulled back long enough to put both legs between Spike’s, hitching one of Spike’s legs over his hip to get a better angle, bringing their cocks into alignment, the denim of their jeans adding to the friction between them.

“Bloody hell!”

Spike got the idea, and wrapped both his legs around Xander’s waist, letting Xander carry his weight, arching into his thrusts, throwing his head back against the wall so Xander could use his teeth, a ring of bites in the pale flesh that Xander regretted would fade too soon.

“Oh, my god!” Spike and Xander froze. That was Buffy’s voice.

“Shhh!”

“Anya!” That would be Willow.

“What do you mean, shhh?” Buffy replied indignantly. “Xander and Spike are having sex in Giles' courtyard and you’re telling me to shhh?”

“See what you did? Now they’re stopping!”

“Thank the goddess! I told you there was something wrong, Buffy. Spike must have thralled Xander!” Willow’s voice was getting higher and higher.

“Fuck.” Xander set Spike down, reluctantly.

“Not quite, regrettably.” Spike shifted, readjusting his cock as he looked around Xander’s shoulder nervously, obviously looking for a stake aimed his direction.

Xander sighed and turned around, keeping his body between Buffy and Spike – this was not going to be pretty. He mustered up his best Child Xander goofy smile.

“Ladies!”

Stake in one hand, Buffy stormed in his direction. “Move out of the way, Xander.”

Xander pushed Spike back against the wall, panic making the anger inside him surge forward, “Don’t you touch him, Buffy.”

She grabbed Xander’s arm, but he jerked away from her, shaking his head. “I mean it, Buffy, if you touch him, I’ll hurt you.”

She stepped back, shocked. “Xander?”

“What the hell is going on here?” Giles’ voice drifted up from the stairs.

“Hail, hail,” Spike’s smart ass voice drawled from behind him, “the gang’s all here.”

Tara practically pushed Giles up the stairs, and he came to a halt several feet away from Buffy. Willow ran over to him, babbling and clinging to his arm.

“There was…I mean, they were kissing, and there was touchage and thrusting and boots in the air and Xander wouldn’t do that if something wasn’t wrong. I mean, there has to be something wrong, right? If Xander would do that with Spike. Not Spike!”

“Oi, what’s wrong with me?”

Xander elbowed Spike in the ribs. He wasn’t helping his own case.

Willow kept going, right over Spike’s protest. “And there was cursing and grunting and then there were threats and Tara says his aura is all weird. Something has to be wrong, Giles! It has to be!”

Tara wrapped her arm around Willow, one hand touching her cheek, turning her to face Tara. “Willow, honey. You have to breathe.”

Willow whooped in a huge lungful of air, then burst out coughing. Tara patted her on the back, cautiously watching the rest of the group.

“Would someone mind translating that into English?” Xander knew that look. As Spike would say, Giles was definitely not in the mood for silly chits.

“Oh, me!” Anya waved her hand in the air. “When we got here, Xander and Spike were making out up against the wall. Spike had his legs wrapped around Xander’s waist and Xander’s hips were moving…”

Giles interrupted, holding up one hand to stop her. “Thank you, Anya, I believe I have the idea, now.”

“I didn’t even get to the good part. Spike was all…” she dropped her voice low, “‘Bloody hell!’ and Xander…”

“Please, Anya.” Buffy interrupted impatiently. “I saw it once already, I don’t need the slomo with sound effects. Okay?” She stepped forward again. “I just need Xander to move so I can beat a few answers out of Spike.”

“Buffy.” Giles placed a restraining hand on her arm. “I don’t think that is the best course of action right now.”

“It’s not?” Willow sounded honestly confused.

“Perhaps we should all step inside, and discuss this quietly, away from prying neighbors?”

They all looked around; it was a particularly quiet night. Giles rolled his eyes. “Inside, people. Now.”

Tara pulled Willow toward the stairs, and Anya reluctantly trailed along, glancing back to see if she was missing anything when the others didn’t automatically follow.

Xander hated to leave the relatively open space of the courtyard, where he knew that Spike had a better chance of escaping if necessary. He shook his head. “I’d rather not, Giles. I don’t trust Buffy.”

Giles glanced between the two, confusedly. “I offer you my word, Xander. No one will harm you.”

Xander crossed his arms. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

Giles looked surprised, but nodded. “Buffy will give you her word that she will not harm Spike.”

“I will?”

“Yes, you will. And you will hand the stake over to me.” She frowned at him. He held out his hand. “Now.”

She dropped her stake into his open palm reluctantly, glaring at Spike over Xander’s shoulder. “All right. No slayage. For now.”

Xander shook his head, angrily. “Not good enough. No slayage, ever.”

“I’m not going to promise never to slay Spike, Xander. If he gets that chip out, the first one he’ll come after is you.”

Spike growled, pushing at Xander in an attempt to move him out of the way. When that didn’t work, he just pointed his finger at her over Xander’s shoulder. “The first one I’ll come after is you, Slayer.”

Both Xander and Giles spoke at the same time. “Shut up, Spike.”

“Fine!”

Xander rolled his eyes. He could practically hear Spike’s pout.

“Just tell her to stay away from me.”

Giles glared at Spike before turning to his slayer. “Buffy. You will do nothing to harm Spike until we know exactly what is going on here, is that clear?”

“Oh, that makes me feel better.” Xander huffed a brief laugh at Spike’s petulant response.

“It’s the best you’re going to get,” Giles snapped, “so shut up and get inside, all of you.” He stood there watching as they filed down the steps, then followed them down.

Xander grabbed Spike and sat him on one of the stools by the bar, as far away from Buffy as possible. He found himself calculating distances, knowing that Spike could move fast if he needed to. If he had to, Xander could slow Buffy down. She’d do her best to avoid hurting Xander, and he’d do what he had to, to stop her from dusting Spike. Spike was his, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to him.

Giles closed the door behind him and stood there, staring at them all, one at a time. When he looked at Spike, his eyes narrowed in speculation, and Xander stepped between them automatically, sensing the threat implicit in Giles’ look. Willow had watched the interplay quietly, but when she saw that, she spoke up again.

“You see what I mean, Giles? Xander is being all protective of Spike. Spike! There has to be something wrong. He hates Spike.”

Anya sighed dramatically, plopping down in the closest chair. “How you can call yourself Xander’s best friend simply amazes me sometimes. Xander and Spike have been friends for a long time, now.”

“They have?” This, from Buffy, who was still watching Spike cautiously, as if he was going to go on a killing spree at any moment, chip or no chip.

“Of course they have.” She waved her hand at Buffy and Willow dismissively. “While you’ve been off doing college things, Xander’s been meeting Spike at the Bronze to play pool and eat spicy wings.” Buffy and Willow looked at each other, surprised.

“How do you think Xander knew Spike had been trying to separate you three under orders from Adam? Spike admitted it to him when Xander got all upset about being told he should join the army. You don’t confess a secret like that if you don’t like the person you’re trying to trick.”

Buffy was the first to recover. “Yeah, but pool playing buddies is not the same thing as tonsil-hockey buddies, and there was some serious hockey going on out there.”

“How can you tell?” Anya took in Xander’s protective stance in front of Spike. “It’s different for guys, I think. Maybe pool and spicy wings are forms of foreplay for men, and we just don’t know because we’re women.”

Her eyes narrowed, and Xander spoke up quickly, not wanting to alienate the one somewhat friendly ally in the room. “We just started this summer, Ahn. I would never have cheated on you. You know that.”

She smiled, clearly relieved. “I know you wouldn’t, Xander. I still have many friends in the vengeance business; you’re too smart to do something that stupid.”

Willow looked hurt, and Xander braced himself. Child Xander was much more capable of dealing with Willow in any form, but he didn’t feel comfortable allowing him that much rein. He wasn’t sure exactly what to do. He hated this in-between state of flux he’d been dealing with the last several days, he needed to take full control and although he felt stronger every day, he only felt truly comfortable when he was alone with Spike.

“Xander?” Now that was a truly pitiful sound. Xander found himself crowding backwards, until Spike’s knee was planted in the small of his back and there was nowhere left to go. “Are you really dating Spike?”

Spike snorted. “I doubt you’d call it dating, Red. Mostly we just fuck ea...”

“And the less we hear about that, the better, thank you,” Giles interrupted. “I’m more concerned about what you mentioned earlier, Willow. Something about their auras?”

Willow brightened. “Or Xander’s at least. Tara says it’s hard to read demon auras, since she doesn’t know much about them, but Xander’s aura is all wrong.”

Xander swallowed nervously. He’d hoped they’d concentrate on the fact that he and Spike were having sex, and let the rest drop, but it looked like things might get even more difficult.

He laughed, wincing when he heard how nervous he sounded. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing wrong with me.” He shook his finger at Tara playfully. “Now look here, missy, no one gave you permission to snoop around my aura, now did they?”

Tara cringed back against the couch, and Willow took her hand protectively. “That’s not nice, Xander. I asked her. She was trying to help.”

Spike put his hand on Xander’s back, and Xander bit back his words. Apparently, his attempt at silly Xander joking wasn’t as convincing as he’d hoped.

Giles glared at Xander before turning to Tara. “What exactly did you see, Tara?”

She blushed heavily, but encouraged by Willow’s smile, spoke up quietly. “W-w-well, Xander’s aura has a strange…I-I-I-I’m not sure how to say this, bu-but it’s almost like a n-n-n-negative glow.”

Her stutter was strong, but she persisted, and as she warmed to her subject, her voice got firmer and more comfortable. “A normal aura expands ou-outward, glowing more faintly as it gets fa-farther away from the body. Bu-bu-but the edges of his aura are so-so-soaking up light instead. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Okay, that’s just weird.” Xander turned to look at Spike, uncertainly. Spike stared back at him, his face blank; he wasn’t getting any help from that direction. He stepped to the side so he could see Spike more easily, being careful to stay between Buffy and Spike. “Don’t you guys think…”

“Do be quiet, Xander. I’m trying to think.” Giles’ attitude really pissed Xander off. He hated to be dismissed like that, and Giles was really getting on his nerves. He could feel the rage he’d held inside himself for days growing, and tried desperately to tamp it down.

“See? There’s something wrong, Giles. Maybe Spike thralled Xander, like Drusilla did with Kendra, remember?” Her eyes got big and round and her voice got higher and higher the longer she talked. “He did something to Xander to make him like Spike, and now he’s using Xander, and it’s just not right! We have to do something.”

Xander clenched his fists, fighting the impulse to just slap the silly bitch. She had no idea what she was talking about, and he hated that she simply assumed that he was incapable of making such a choice for himself.

“Is that possible, Giles? Did Spike do something to Xander?”

“It’s possible, Buffy, although I haven’t come across any mention of Spike being capable of such a thing. However, he spent many years with Drusilla, who is quite familiar with the technique.”

“Oi! As if I’m not capable of attracting his attention without mojo!”

Giles frowned at Spike, and Xander froze, uncertain if he should stay between Buffy and Spike, step over to protect him from Giles, or slap a hand over Spike’s mouth so he couldn’t say anything else.

“I didn’t do a thing to him he didn’t ask for, and let me tell you, he’s a very demanding lover, so I’ve done plenty. But it was consensual – every bit of it.”

Xander’s head was spinning, and he fought to keep his control, but he felt torn in so many different directions that he literally couldn’t move until Buffy stormed over, and he finally shook loose of the paralysis that had gripped him.

“Shut up, Spike.”

“Stay away from him, Slayer!” He didn’t remember moving, but he was toe to toe with Buffy, staring down at her angrily. Spike was right behind him, Xander could feel his strong hand at the small of his back. He kept his focus was on Buffy, and hoped Spike had enough presence of mind to keep an eye on the watcher.

His entire body vibrated with tension, and if she made one more move toward Spike he’d see exactly how far he could drive his fist into her face. Spike was his, and no one touched what belonged to him.

Buffy stared up at him in confusion. “Slayer?”

“See, Giles, something is definitely wrong.” Willow chimed in, making Xander snarl in anger. Someone needed to teach that little bitch to mind her own business. “He’s not acting at all Xander-like. Spike must have thralled him, he must have!”

Xander laughed at her, taking a step back from Buffy as she looked over at Willow. “Spike didn’t thrall me, you stupid bitch. He belongs to me, not the other way around.”

They all gasped at his comment, although he wasn’t sure if it was the bitch comment, or the truth of who was owned by whom that had surprised them, and to be honest, he didn’t care. He was tired of all the games. It was time for them to meet the new Xander.

“Xan…” Spike stepped up to his side, but Xander shook his head.

“Not now, Spike. They need to know that I’m tired of all their childish behavior. I won’t be treated that way anymore.”

“Xander?” Buffy took a step in his direction, but Xander cut her off.

“You stay right where you are, Slayer, until we’ve come to an agreement.” She looked around the room, quickly, and at Giles’ gesture, she nodded.

“Okay. What kind of an agreement are we talking about?”

“I won’t have you touching Spike. Spike is mine, and if you touch him, I’ll have to kill you. Is that understood?”

“What do you mean, Spike is yours?” Giles’ curiosity had apparently overcome his good sense, and Buffy frowned at him as Xander’s attention turned to her watcher.

“What? Like you own him? Did he sell himself to you or something?” Buffy could be so transparent sometimes. She was clearly trying to keep his attention off Giles. That was fine with him, though. Despite the fact that Giles was dangerous in his own right, he was nothing compared to his slayer.

“Oh, are you interested in renting him out? I’d be willing to pay…”

Buffy slapped one hand over Anya’s mouth, but Xander just laughed. Anya never failed to amuse him. He cocked one eyebrow as if in thought. “How much?”

“Oi!” Spike hit him soundly on the arm. “There will be no renting me out.”

“No, of course not, Spike. I wouldn’t dream of it.” But he couldn’t get rid of his grin.

Buffy shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t believe it. If Spike belongs to you, prove it.”

“Spike!” Spike jumped, turning to Xander, his eyes wide in shock at the command in his voice.

“On your knees.”

Spike fell to the floor, landing with a loud thump on the polished wood, his eyes downcast, as they properly belonged. There was a collective gasp around the room before, as expected, Spike glanced up angrily.

“Don’t do that!”

Xander arched his brow, and Spike dropped his eyes again, still angry, it was easy to tell, but it didn’t matter. Xander would repay him for his obedience later. He curled one hand around the back of Spike’s neck possessively, and glanced around the room.

“Anything else you want to know?”


	9. Tub, Sweet Tub?

Spike banged his head rhythmically on the edge of the tub. He’d sworn never again, but here he was, back in the watcher’s bathtub. He hated this tub with a passion, but he had to admit, it was roomier than Xander’s down in that damned basement. And cleaner, too. Small blessings, he knew, but he took what he could get these days.

He’d had such high hopes for Xander, but now it looked as if they were about to be crushed before his eyes. They’d had a good run of it, though. A good deal of fun had been had in the short time they’d been together, and lots of good memories made. He had no hopes for a future. As soon as they figured out what had happened, they’d find a way to fix it, and old Spike would be out on his ear. Xander – the boy – had a good heart, and would probably be able to forgive Spike for taking advantage of him, but things would never be the same again.

He sighed heavily. He’d heard them working on Xander earlier, trying to get him to spill everything, but The Bastard was standing firm, or sitting, as the case may be. They’d had him tied up in a chair in the watcher’s bedroom for a good long time before they realized he was speaking to Spike every time they left the room. They’d bundled Xander downstairs after that, and although he could still hear sounds from down there, nothing was very clear.

He was most worried about the scents; it seemed they were working spells, if the scent of incense and sage was anything to go by. He doubted they’d been able to break Xander’s spell, but they were doing some kind of mojo, and that was not a good sign. Spike perked up when he heard footsteps on the stairs. The watcher and his slayer, from the sound of things. Well, they wouldn’t get anywhere with him. There hadn’t been that many people who’d stood up for Spike the way Xander had tonight. He wouldn’t be the one to betray that trust.

The scent of pig’s blood preceded them into the room. He grimaced; as if he’d be tempted by that rank slop. Xander had been feeding him human for weeks; he was healthier now than he’d been since his time with the Initiative. He could easily go for two or three days before hunger began to be a problem.

“Hey, Spike.” She stopped inside the door, her watcher behind her in the doorway, holding a mug.

“Slayer.”

“Hungry? Giles said you haven’t been over for blood in several days. He’s got a refrigerator full that he’s hoping you’ll want to take off his hands when you leave.”

“Planning to let me go, are you?” He held his chained hands out to her. “Ta much, Ducks. I’ll just be on my way, then.”

She walked over and sat on the edge of the tub, shaking her head. “Well, not quite yet.” He dropped his hands, a disappointed pout on his face. “There’s still the matter of the spell you cast on Xander to deal with.”

Spike laughed out loud. “I cast? Are you barkers? I’m capable of a lot of things, Slayer, but magic is not one of them.”

“Who did, then?” Giles set the cup on the cabinet at the end of the tub and leaned his hip against the sink.

“What makes you think there’s a spell in the first place? Xander’s not capable of making up his own mind? Is that it? Oh, wait, I get it. He’s just not allowed to want something you don’t think is in his best interests.”

Giles made an exasperated noise. “If that were the case, he’d never have dated Anya. No, we don’t control what or who he does with his life, but his rapid change of personality has us more than a little concerned.”

“Change of personality? Boy’s growing up on you is he? Becoming more assertive as he becomes a man? Maybe he’s a bit more aggressive these days, but don’t you think that might have to do with being involved with a vampire?” He smiled lecherously at Buffy, licking his lips. “We like our sex a bit rough, you know. Every time you hit me, Slayer, I get hard.”

Buffy jumped off the tub, putting plenty of distance between them. “Giles, the vampire is creeping me out!”

Spike leered at them both. He inhaled deeply and quite loudly, eyebrows rising when he got a hit of two different sets of pheromones. He wasn’t surprised. He’d spent enough time here in his flat to know where the watcher’s interests lay.

The watcher knew what he was doing, even if his slayer looked confused. He interrupted the moment, derailing Spike’s casual thought of seducing one or the other in order to free himself and Xander.

“We performed a detection spell tonight, Spike. We know perfectly well that there is a spell on both of you.”

“Both of us?” That was disturbing to Spike. He hadn’t realized he’d been spelled, as well. Not that he’d have objected to Xander’s initiation of sex between them, he was pretty sure of that, but still, it bothered him to know the spell had extended to him.

“Ah. You thought the spell was only on Xander?”

The gleam in Giles’ eyes as he picked up on that slip made Spike curse. Blast. He’d have to be more careful than that. It wasn’t much, but it was a place for them to start digging, and that was never a good thing.

“So you knew?” Buffy stalked to the tub and grabbed Spike by the collar of his shirt. “Dammit, Spike, I’ll get the truth out of you, if I have to beat it out.”

Spike pulled himself back together in a hurry. “Oh, yes, Slayer,” he purred seductively, “I’d like that.” She dropped him like a hot rock, and he stretched languidly in the space available to him, smiling at them smugly.

“He’s doing it again, Giles. Make him stop!”

“Bloody hell, woman!” Spike clenched his teeth against the high-pitched tone of her voice, doing his best to cover his ears with his wrists chained to his ankles the way they were. “The sound of your whine is enough to make any self-respecting vampire flee in terror. You’re more than safe from me, I promise you.”

“Oh!” That brightened her up considerably. “Okay, I’ll just whine at you until you ‘fes up.” She propped her fists on her hips and stared at him determinedly. “You know what happened to Xander, and we’re going to find out, so why don’t you do us all a favor, and save us the trouble of getting it out of you the hard way.”

Spike jutted out his chin. She’s not the only one who could do determined. “You’ll get nothing from me.”

“Forget it, Buffy. We’ve no time for that.”

“What? Giles, this is Xander’s life we’re talking about.” Spike froze; she couldn’t mean that literally, could she? “We can’t just give up, we’ve barely gotten started.”

“What do you mean, Xander’s life?” Spike demanded.

“What do you care, Spike?” Buffy asked spitefully. “It’s not as if it can kill you, you’re already dead.”

“I care a lot!” Spike pulled at the chains, shouting in frustration. “Tell me what you mean!

“Listen, fangless…”

“Buffy.” Giles put his hand on her arm, shaking his head. She fell back against the doorjamb, obviously frustrated. Giles ignored her, concentrating on Spike. “You do care, don’t you?”

Spike growled at him. “Of course I do. You heard Demon Girl; we’ve been mates for months now.” He tried to pour all his sincerity into his words, it was important that the watcher understand him. “He’s my friend, Rupert. Now what do you mean? How is the spell hurting Xander?”

He must have got through, because Giles relaxed slightly, pulling his glasses off as he spoke. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, Spike. His health is deteriorating.”

Icy cold fear clenched at his stomach. “How?”

“Anya noticed it first. He’s lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time.” Spike thought back, remembering Xander joking that he was working so hard that he was losing weight, cinching his belt a notch tighter as he spoke. “And his hands shake.”

Spike looked up at that. “Not all the time, they don’t.”

“Don’t they?” Slipping his glasses back on, he focused on Spike’s words seriously, clearly wishing he had a pen and paper, so he could take notes. “When do they not shake, then?”

Shrugging, Spike thought back. “When he’s one or the other.”

“What does that mean?” Spike sighed. Apparently the smart gene had skipped a generation at the Summer’s house.

“Well, there’s The Boy and The Bastard, right? Then there’s the times between, when he’s not entirely either one. That’s when he’s weakest.” He glanced to the watcher for confirmation. “Am I right?”

The watcher was nodding as if that made sense. “So there’s a definite separation between the two, a clearly defined line?”

“Not always. But yeah, a lot of the time there is.”

“And when he’s not our Xander or the other one, is when he’s sickest?” It looked like the slayer was finally catching on.

“I didn’t realize that’s what was going on, but yeah, I think so.” As he thought back, he could see it all more clearly. “I just thought he was tired of the two parts fighting each other, is all.”

“The two parts of his personality fight for ascendancy?” Giles looked up sharply at that. “Well, that would make sense. What happens when…”

“No.” Spike shook his head. He’d said more than he should have already. “No more. I won’t say anything else until I talk to him. See for myself that he’s really ill. I won’t betray his trust like that.”

“Forget it. You’re not going anywhere until you answer all our questions.”

Spike shut his mouth, tipping his head back until he was looking at the ceiling. “Oh, look, Watcher. Time to grout the tile, I see,” he said in a casually conversational tone.

“Spike!”

“Not now, Buffy.” The watcher interrupted her. “Let’s talk downstairs.”

She didn’t look at all happy, but after another glare, she grabbed the mug of blood, and left, followed by her watcher, who shut the door behind him.

Damn. This thing was getting more and more complicated all the time.


	10. Lock Picking for Fun and Profit

Xander stood by the entrance to the alley, far back enough to be out of the line of sight, but still close enough to see trouble before it saw him. A few yards behind him Spike knelt in the alley, carefully working his picks into one of the locks on the back door of the Magic Box. Xander was anxious to get moving, but he knew better than to interrupt Spike while he was listening for the clicks that would help him unlock the door. After Spike had killed the clerk at the shop a couple of years earlier, the owners had installed a complex system of locks, but for some reason, hadn’t bothered with an alarm.

Xander suspected there was magic involved, but Spike seemed to think it was just stupidity, and who was he to doubt it? He’d lived in Sunnydale his entire life, he knew that collective blindness was a way of life here on the Hellmouth. He glanced back down the alley in time to see Spike stand up, pocketing his lock pick kit. If they made it out of this mess alive, Xander was determined to get Spike to teach him that trick. They’d still be trapped at the watcher’s apartment if Spike hadn’t been able to pick a lock with a paperclip.

He could feel the regret the Child Xander had at the necessity of knocking Anya out, but they’d had no choice. They’d needed to get out before the rest came back. He had no concerns about the wild goose chase he’d sent the slayer on; she’d have no luck finding anything at the house on Blackthorn Lane. Spike had even kept the glass shard Xander had cut himself with that night. He told Xander there was no sense leaving behind something as valuable to a magic user as blood, and Xander agreed, it had been a serious slip on his part. But Xander thought there was more to it than that; it was a souvenir of a memorable night. Who would have thought that William the Bloody was a sentimental fool? The only thing they’d left in that house was the magnet on the refrigerator. If the slayer found that, she was welcome to it.

The red head, on the other hand, was more dangerous. Giles had accompanied Willow and Tara back to Willow's dorm room for a spell book that might have a solution for finding the source of the spell that held Spike and Xander in its grip. Any time now they’d figure out that he and Spike were missing. They needed to have some sort of magical protection in place before Willow and Tara could use a spell to track them down. Spike was confident this was the place to find what they needed. Hopefully, the charm Spike had seen the last time he was here was still inside. Or something similar, at least. Spike was confident he’d be able to find something, and Xander had no choice but to trust him.

“Right,” Spike murmured softly. “I’ll do better on my own inside. No need to create a light that way.”

Xander nodded, he’d thought as much himself. Besides, Spike seemed to know what he was looking for. Xander would only be in the way. “I’ll keep a watch out. You hear my voice, you’ll know something is up.” He made sure he caught Spike’s eye; this part wasn’t likely to go over well. “If it’s Buffy, or any of her crew, I want you to run like hell. Get as far away from her as possible.”

“Bloody hell. Now who’s sidelining who?” Spike spoke softly, but as expected, he was not happy at Xander’s orders.

“I need to know you’re free, Spike. They won’t hurt me, and you know it. You on the other hand have no such guarantee. I won’t see you hurt. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“Not hurt? What the hell are you thinking, man? If they can figure out a way, they’ll wipe you clean out of Xander’s mind.”

“I know that. Which is why you have to get to the Chapman crypt and get that board out of there.” Xander’s tone of voice brooked no argument, and Spike growled softly, but Xander could tell Spike understood where he was going with this. “You need to hide it safely, and wait for me.” Spike opened his mouth to speak, but Xander didn’t give him a chance.

“For as long as necessary. Eventually, they’ll relax their guard, and you can get me back. Even if they’ve managed to break the spell, you can try it again. You know what it took: blood and sex magic are strong. You can get me back. I know it.”

Spike searched Xander’s eyes. “You’d wait for me that long?”

“You’d wait that long for me.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact.

Shrugging, Spike crossed his arms, his reluctant pout making Xander smile. “I get bored easily, you know.”

Xander stepped closer, until they were only inches apart and whispered, “You’d wait for me.”

Spike arched one elegant eyebrow. “Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

His smile grew. “I’m worth it.” He tilted his head, indicating the inside of the store. “Now get busy. We don’t have much time.”

Heading into the store, Xander heard Spike mutter, “Bloody motherfucking tease.” Xander turned back to the alley, and focused his eyes on the end of the street. This was no time to be caught napping; there was still a lot left to do before the night ended.

 

***

 

Xander stared at the cracked ceiling of the abandoned office building Clem called home. It wasn’t bad as such places went, but still, it was an abandoned building – there wasn’t much in the way of earthly comforts. His basement was better than this. Well, it would be if it weren’t for that nasty, musty smell. And the washer and dryer chugging and banging while he was trying to sleep. And the on-again-off-again microwave, and the parental units fighting upstairs, and the water heater capable of holding about three minutes worth of hot water… Okay, maybe Clem’s place was better. But at least his basement had cable. Clem didn’t even have a TV, and what the hell was up with that? How did anyone live without TV?

He rolled over onto his side, and stared at Spike sleeping beside him. Clem’s apartment had Spike, though. That was what was important, because Spike saw Xander in a way nobody else ever had. Except maybe Anya – a little bit. He hated that they’d had to hurt her last night, but she wouldn’t let them leave, so he’d had to do something, and conking her on the head had been about the only alternative at that moment. They couldn’t stay. The whole time they had Xander tied up, all they’d talked about was turning him back into what he used to be. They wanted their old Xander back. The problem was that it was too late for that.

He remembered the story Willow had told him and Jessie when they were younger, about Pandora and her box. It was too late for him to go back to what he’d been; he couldn’t be that boy anymore. He hadn’t really been that boy for a while now; he’d been growing and changing even before all this had happened. He wouldn’t go back to how he’d been in High School, even if he could. He didn’t like all the things his alter ego did, but he felt better, more capable than he ever had before, and he knew where a lot of that had come from. His ‘other half’ believed in himself in ways that the old Xander never had. His alter ego was strong.

It hadn’t been quite a month since The Bastard, as Spike called him, had shown up. His boss had called him into his office last week, and told Xander how well he’d been coming along. He’d said that Xander was catching on fast, and that recently he’d shown real progress at work, and was displaying leadership potential. He was on the fast track for a position as a foreman, and Xander knew his newfound confidence was at least in part due to his shadow-half. He grinned at that – it was like having a super power, which was pretty damn cool.

He only wished that his power was a force for good, like Buffy’s, or at least a neutral one like being a witch, with the ability to chose to do good or bad. His shadow-half was definitely evil, he knew that. The things he did with Spike frightened him, despite the fact that he knew Spike loved it. They just seemed wrong, and it hurt him to know that something that felt so damn good could be evil. If he could shove the bad stuff into a box in the back of his mind and still hang on to the good, everything would be perfect. He’d be like Pandora, only he’d put a lock on that damn box, and lose the goddamned key. Maybe three or four locks, and a bunch of chains for good measure.

Maybe he could be like Nick Fury, who was human with no super powers (well, except for the really slow aging thing), but with a human’s conscience. If he could figure out a way to meld with his alter ego, and get the positive things he had to offer, and still maintain his humanity and his belief in right vs. wrong, he could be a force for good in Sunnydale. Be a back up for Buffy, and make a real difference in the world. That wouldn’t be so bad. And if he had Spike at his side, well, no one could stop them. He just had to figure out a way to keep Buffy from killing Spike long enough to get her to see reason.

He grinned at that. Oh, right. That would be a breeze. He touched the protection and concealment charms around Spike’s neck, then their twins, which were tied around his own. They must be working, since there’d been no pissy slayers or indignant witches bursting into the apartment this morning. He glanced over at the blanket covering Clem’s bedroom window, the glow of a setting sun leaking orange and red around the ragged edges. Make that early evening. They’d slept later than he’d planned, they needed to get up, finalize their plans and get the hell out of Dodge as soon as the sun set.

He wondered if Clem had managed to get all their supplies together while they slept. They’d set him a difficult task, but he’d been happy to oblige, especially when Spike offered up his crypt as an incentive. Clem was thrilled; according to him it was prime real estate in demon terms. And it had a TV.

Xander rolled onto his back and stretched. It had been a long night. They’d dragged into Clem’s place not too long before dawn, after wrapping the board from the Chapman crypt up in several blankets and hiding it in the labyrinth of tunnels that existed under Sunnydale. They’d left it there, buried in rubble, with half a dozen different charms and amulets, and even a confusion spell that Spike said would keep anyone from paying too much attention to the entire area it was located in. He was glad that Spike had that kind of knowledge; it made him resent Drusilla a little less, knowing that without spending so much time around her, Spike would never have learned as much as he knew about such things.

“Morning.”

Spike’s gravelly voice rumbled sleepily, and Xander couldn’t help but grin happily as he turned back onto his side. “Good morning!”

Spike raised one lazy eyebrow. “Well, The Sadistic Bastard isn’t really a morning person, is he? It’s almost always you I wake up to.”

Xander chuckled before leaning forward and kissing him. Spike wrapped his hand around the back of Xander’s head and held on, their kiss getting deeper and more passionate as they moved together, hands touching, their cocks rubbing against each other through the cloth of their pants. It was only the thought of their clothes that brought Xander back to his senses. They were dressed because they were in Clem’s bed, in all the clothing they had to their names. They couldn’t get them dirty until they knew Clem had gotten them new stuff.

Xander pulled back reluctantly. “Come on. Clem said he had Twinkies for breakfast!” He rolled out of bed before Spike could tempt him into another kiss and stretched again. He could use another hour or two of sleep, but he felt okay. Nothing like Giles and Willow were saying – he wasn’t getting weak or anything. He felt fine.

Spike moaned from the bed. “Twinkies? I’m in hell.” He crawled out of bed, hunting for his shirt. “You need to start eating better. Clem had better have got those vitamins I told him about or he’s in a world of trouble.”

“Vitamins? You told him to get me vitamins?” Xander stopped with one hand on the doorknob. “Don’t tell me you’re taking Willow and Giles seriously. I am not wasting away here.” He thumped his chest with his free hand. “Solid as a rock. That was bullshit they made up to convince us to let them ‘fix’ me. It ain’t gonna happen, bud. I won’t be their little donut boy anymore. This is the new me, and there’s not a damn thing anyone is going to do to change it.”

“Xander…”

“Ah ah ah!” Xander shook his head. He refused to discuss it. “The subject is closed, and that is all there is to it.” He walked out the door into Clem’s living room/kitchen area, smiling at Clem, who sat at the kitchen table sorting through a bunch of grocery bags, his saggy skin flopping comically as he turned back and forth between bags.

“Clem,” he said cheerfully, “what was that you said last night about Twinkies?”

“Hey, Xander. Oh, sure! Help yourself to anything. They’re in the cabinet next to the stove. On the right.”

Xander went to the cabinet, opening it to find a mostly full box of Twinkies, along with a myriad of other tasty confections of the food group known as snack foods. “Excellent!” He grabbed the box, and a bag of Doritos, and set them on the counter next to an already open two-liter bottle of soda. He unwrapped a Twinkie and shoved half of it in his mouth in one go.

Xander clapped Clem on the shoulder, sensing a true snack food aficionado, and recognizing the bond between them. “Clem. I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”


	11. As Close as a Vamp Can Get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for Chapters Eleven and Thirteen taken from LJ's tamingthemuse prompt #280: Thousand.

Spike nursed his beer, watching Xander as he and Clem sat on the couch playing Grand Theft Auto. He seemed to be doing good today, the shaking in his hands was minimal, and his spirits were high. But then when he was Butch his spirits were almost always high – The Boy seemed capable of springing back from anything. No matter how low he’d get, sooner or later he and Clem would start babbling on about some superhero or other and he’d be his old self again in no time. The problem was, he seemed to be The Boy a little bit less every day.

The Bastard made Clem nervous so he didn’t stick around long on the days when he made an appearance. Not that The Bastard minded Clem hanging about, he thought of Clem as a valuable ally. He had done well when he’d found them this lair, no doubt about that. The flat belonged to some mate of Clem’s that was visiting family in Nevada or some such thing. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it had electricity and cable and even a Play Station for Xander, and when he was Boy Xander, he and Clem would play games or talk about science fiction and comic books and it was as if they were long lost twins or something.

The Bastard, on the other hand, had no use for kid’s stuff, and Clem always found some excuse or other to hightail it out of there on those days. He’d drop their supplies by and remember sudden, urgent business on the other side of town. That suited them all fine. As long as The Bastard was around, Spike preferred Clem leave them alone, as the fun they got up to by themselves was more of the raw and naked kind.

The day The Bastard asked Clem to procure them a set of vamp proof chains, heavy duty lube and a box of latex gloves, Clem turned so pale Spike thought he was gonna have to give him mouth to mouth to start him breathing again. While he and Clem got on just fine, Spike had no bloody interest in kissing him, so it was just as well that Clem knew when to leave. Spike tried to get him to stop bringing over so much junk food, but that had nearly caused a riot, so he’d backed down on that right quick. He barely got Xander to take a vitamin once a day; he had to take his victories where he could get them.

He took another drink of his beer, running his fingers up and down the neck absent-mindedly. They’d been here close to two weeks, now, and Spike wasn’t sure why they were still in town. He’d brought up the idea of heading out of state often enough that The Bastard had finally cracked down, and told him if he mentioned the subject again he’d keep Spike in a ball gag full time. He told Spike he trusted him, but he refused to admit that they couldn’t leave, and Spike was beginning to wonder if he knew why.

Maybe he was afraid that if he left the Hellmouth, he’d start to lose his hold on Xander’s body? Maybe it was the power of the Hellmouth that kept him as strong as he was. And he was strong when he was The Bastard; stronger than when he was Butch, anyway. Still not as powerful as a vampire, but he was getting his strength from somewhere supernatural, and there was no place more supernatural than the Hellmouth.

What kept Spike worried was the nightmares, and the sudden fits Xander would take when he’d collapse to the floor, pale and shaky, and have to be carried to bed. He’d sleep it off, and when he woke he’d be fine. Then he’d go on like it had never happened, refusing to talk about it, like the child that closed his eyes to make the monsters go away. But Spike kept watch, and he knew it wasn’t getting any better. Not by a long shot.

At least they didn’t seem to be in any danger of being discovered by the slayer. Clem had been at Willy’s Bar the other day, and the word was going round that the slayer hadn’t been asking as many questions this week. Week before, she’d been over most every day beating the hell out of Willy and half the demons in his bar trying to get some word on where they were. Hopefully they’d decided Spike and Xander had left town by now, and would ease up their search. Clem wasn’t buying Spike’s blood locally, which should throw them off the trail some. He was also wearing a set of the same charms as Spike and Xander, so that should confuse the issue even more.

Clem jumped up out of his seat, cheering at something on the screen that had them both laughing like loons. He and Xander might as well be the same person, they had so many things in common: superhero comics, science fiction TV shows, bad slasher films and Godzilla movies, Saturday morning cartoons, video games. It was like having two kids in the flat, and sometimes Spike wanted to go out and kill something so badly he ached with the need to get away from the whole crazy mess. But then he’d find himself sitting on the floor, leaning back between Xander’s legs, his strong, callused fingers kneading the muscles of Spike’s shoulders. They’d drink beer and laugh as they made fun of some old kung fu movie and he’d realize he hadn’t felt this calm and easy in ages.

When The Bastard was in the room, well, there was a pit in his stomach filled with fire and need, and he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep Xander safe. Xander’s sure hands on his body made him feel real, made his skin tingle and his cock ache and he never wanted it to end. He knew he was cherished for who he was, not what he could do for Xander. With Angelus, Spike had never been an equal partner, he’d always been an afterthought, the childe of his childe. Only worth the effort to raise up the right way so there would be someone to take care of Drusilla.

And Dru – he’d followed wherever she wanted to go, let her take the lead in their games whenever she wanted, but for the most part, he had been the strong one, the one to keep her safe and make sure she had the luxuries she craved: the softest beds and the loveliest gowns and toys and tea parties and dozens of dolls to keep her company. He was the one who kept her safe when she wanted to dance out into the sun and play with the beams of light; the one who held her when her visions sent her screaming until exhaustion took her and her nightmares had her tearing out her hair and sobbing in his arms.

He ran his finger around the lip of his beer bottle as he contemplated a hundred years worth of dedication to his dark princess. Sometimes it felt more like a thousand years, he was worn so thin from running along behind her – always a step behind, trying to do whatever it was she needed and struggling to be someone he wasn’t in order to keep her happy and safe. He was never what she wanted in the end. How could he be, when all she wanted was her Daddy, her Angelus?

Spike had loved her forever, but he was tired of being the strong one. He wanted someone to hold him when he had bad dreams and keep him safe for once. Xander was willing to do that; he craved the chance to be there for Spike. Butch hadn’t understood it at first – to him it meant that Spike thought of himself as weak. But if Spike were weak, then The Bastard would never consider him worthy of watching his back. The Bastard trusted him, and that showed he was worthy; showed he was worth the effort.

“Oh, wow! Look at the time! I gotta go.” Clem was out of his seat and across the room in seconds, grabbing his backpack and the empty cooler Spike’s blood had come in.

Spike glanced at Xander in surprise. It looked like The Bastard had made an appearance while Spike was lost somewhere in his own head. He seemed to show up out of the blue these days, at less than a moment’s notice.

Spike followed Clem to the door. “Thanks, mate.”

Clem’s smile reminded Spike of Boy Xander’s – cheery and good humored, despite his nervousness as he glanced back at Xander, who’d turned off the TV and sat there watching them, dark eyes hooded and remote. “No problem, Spike. I’ve had more fun in the last couple of weeks than I’ve had in years.” He waved awkwardly at Xander. “See ya tomorrow!”

Spike locked the door behind him, knowing there was a good chance of sex in his immediate future. He grabbed his beer, taking a couple of swigs, thinking he’d finish it off before he joined Xander on the couch.

“Slow down,” Xander ordered hoarsely.

Spike looked over at him in surprise. “What?”

“I couldn’t concentrate on the game. All I could see was you running your fingers around the mouth of that bottle, your lips wrapping around it as you drank. You’ve been touching that bottle like it was my body. Show me what you’re going to do once I give you permission to touch me.”

Spike smiled sexily and licked his lips. “What? You mean when I stick the tip of my tongue in like I’m fucking your arsehole?” He flicked his tongue in and out of the mouth of the bottle. “Or maybe when I lick all around the rim like this?” He used that bottle every way he could think of, licking and sucking and practically deep throating it before Xander called a halt to the demonstration so he could put all his practice into use. After all, practice makes perfect. And Spike was perfect, Xander told him so, more than once.

The part Spike liked best was when Xander pulled him up so he was kneeling on the couch, one leg on either side of Xander’s body, and shoved two slick fingers in Spike’s arse while he bit the soft skin of Spike’s stomach and tongue fucked his navel. By the time Spike was ready to ease down onto Xander’s slick shaft, he was so hard that he had to close his eyes on the sight of Xander’s hungry smile so he wouldn’t come before they even got to the main event.

With Xander’s fat cock buried deep inside him, he was as close to heaven as a vampire could get; grinding and undulating, his hips moving sinuously as he rose and fell, leaving Xander flushed and breathless. Spike clutched at the back of the couch, holding on white-knuckled as he writhed and trembled, his cock painting slick stripes on Xander’s belly when he leaned forward to bring their faces close enough to kiss.

With Spike’s nipples so close to hand, Xander took his time playing with them, pulling and twisting until they ached pleasurably, then sucking the swollen nubs into his mouth to soothe them with his tongue. When he bit down on one nip suddenly, Spike came without touching his cock, the sudden rush of pain/pleasure shocking him, his back arching as his hips stuttered uncontrollably.

It took him a minute to recover and realize that Xander was still hard inside him, so he put his vampire stamina to good use, tightening his muscles and griping Xander’s cock as he writhed and bucked, rolling his hips and using every trick in his arsenal to practically pull Xander’s orgasm out of him. It was some time before either of them was willing to move after that, but finally Spike prodded Xander to his feet and they shared a shower, where Spike showed Xander that even humans were capable of coming twice in a fairly short amount of time when they’re assisted by a vampire with a talent for rimming and an extremely agile tongue.


	12. Starry-Eyed Romantic

“What would you do, if I wasn’t around?”

Xander’s head lay in Spike’s lap, so the angle was awkward, but he watched Spike’s face as closely as he could, resisting the urge to close his eyes and do his best to purr when Spike stroked his fingers through his hair.

“What the hell are you on about?”

They’d been watching some really bad made for TV movie on the SciFi Channel, or had been until they’d both drifted off in the early am hours. It had been a rough day. Xander hadn’t slept well the night before, the nightmares that haunted his sleep forcing him back to consciousness time and time again. He’d had the shakes for most of the day, and Spike had insisted he take a nap in the afternoon, after he’d fallen in the bathroom, his knees giving out from under him, and hadn’t been able to get back up.

Usually a couple hours sleep helped, but he’d woken just as shaky as he’d gone to bed, and Spike had to force him to eat some soup and crackers, just to get something in his stomach. He felt a little better after he ate, and they’d lazed around doing nothing much, just hanging out while Spike talked to him about Budapest and Greece and Peru. Xander wanted to see the Brazilian rain forests, and although Spike said he preferred Rio and sleeping under a roof where he could stay dry and comfortable, he admitted that he was curious, and could be talked into going with Xander, if he wanted the company.

Now, tired and sore from a day of stress and worry, Xander’s thoughts drifted over the places Spike had promised to take him once he was feeling better. If he got better, which he wasn’t very positive about at the moment. He reached over blindly, fumbling the remote from the coffee table and clicking off a fascinating infomercial hosted by a guy with a really bad bald spot and a pitiful looking comb-over.

“I mean it, Spike.” Xander reached up and nudged him in the ribs with one finger. “What would you do if I left you?”

Spike didn’t look very happy about the direction this conversation was headed. “Going somewhere?”

“Not now, no. But eventually…” He let his words trail off, unsure of what to say. He really didn’t want to think about this any more than Spike did, but the thoughts in his head wouldn’t go away.

“Not without me, you’re not.” Spike’s fingers tightened in his hair almost to the point of pain, holding onto the curls Xander could never manage to keep in place. He nudged Spike’s hand with his head, and Spike loosened his grip, fingers running restlessly through Xander’s hair.

Xander rocked his head on Spike’s lap. “You can’t go everywhere with me.”

“Why not?” Spike wanted to know.

“Even to the bathroom?”

“Depends.” He shrugged. “If you’re taking a shower, then I’ll be glued to your side.”

“That would make it difficult to get clean.”

Spike sighed exasperatedly. “Who said anything about getting clean?”

“That’s what you usually do in the shower.”

“Only after I’d got us both dirtier first.” He leered down at Xander, which was a funny thing to see from Xander’s sideways angle.

“I don’t think you could get any dirtier.”

“Oi!” Spike grabbed a lock of Xander’s hair and tugged lightly.

Xander grinned. “Loon.”

“That’s my word,” Spike complained.

“It’s mine, now. And you never answered the question.”

“Which question?” Spike was definitely trying to avoid the subject.

“What would you do if I were gone?” Spike frowned at him, but Xander ignored that. “Would you travel? Back to New York? Have you ever been to Australia? Or what about London – that’s home, right? Maybe to Brazil to find Drusilla.”

“No. I wouldn’t be welcome there.” Spike answered shortly. That surprised Xander.

“Why not?”

“I don’t belong to her anymore, do I?”

He sounded so matter of fact about it. Xander couldn’t understand why Spike wasn’t upset by that admission. He’d been with Drusilla for so long. He had to miss her so much.

“But you love her.”

“I always will. She’ll always be my dark princess. But she’s not mine anymore. And I’m fine with that. I’m not hers anymore, either.” Xander’s heart ached for Spike. How could that not hurt him?

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.” Spike ran the backs of his fingers lightly down Xander’s cheek. “I’m yours.”

“His, you mean.” He said bitterly. He wasn’t sure why that hurt so much, but it did.

Spike shook his head. “I belong to Xander.” He grinned mischievously. “Both of them.”

Xander sat up, crossing his legs so he could sit sideways on the couch. “But if I wasn’t around…” He couldn’t let it go, but Spike didn’t even give him a chance to finish.

“You never answered my question, either, you know. Where are you going, that I can’t follow?”

“I don’t know. Who knows what will happen in the future. Things change. Sometimes they change really fast.”

“I’ll follow you wherever you go.”

Xander liked the sound of that, the way Spike said it like there was no doubt in his mind. He wanted it to be true, but there was one undisputable fact that Spike was ignoring. “Spike. Someday, I’ll die.”

“What?”

Xander spoke slowly, as if to a child who simply couldn’t grasp the concept. “I’m mortal! We mortals tend to do that. Eventually, I’ll die.”

“You don’t have to.” Spike’s face turned stubborn, and he refused to look Xander in the eye.

“You planning on turning me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Not anytime soon, you nob.” Sometimes the obvious simply needed to be stated. “There’s a little matter of the chip that might get in the way.”

A new thought began to take hold in Xander’s brain. “Do you think that’s his idea?”

“Whose?”

“The Sadistic Bastard.” He used air quotes to make it stand out. “My alter ego. Does he want to get vamped?”

“Who the bloody hell knows? Not like he tells me anything.” Seems Xander had hit upon a sore point. “He keeps me totally in the dark. You’d know better than me.”

Xander laughed. “He keeps me in the dark, too. Do you want me to be a vampire?”

“I wouldn’t mind, I guess. Except that you might not be you anymore.”

“I wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Turning’s not an exact science, you know. I don’t really know how it works, it just does, and you never know what will happen. You could lose most of your personality, and if that happened, you wouldn’t be you anymore. That would be a shame, because I’ve grown exceedingly fond of you.”

Xander couldn’t help the grin that statement caused. “So I might be like The Bastard all the time. No me at all.”

“Yeah, maybe. The Bastard would make a marvelous vampire, but I don’t want to lose you – Butch, I mean. I want you both.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? There’s more to you than The Bastard, the same way there’s more to you than The Boy. It’s what you are together that I want. Why would I settle for just half of you when I could have it all?”

“I’m not sure you can have both.” He chewed on his lip as he thought that one out. “What if it’s me or him?”

Spike’s stare seemed to go right through him. “We’re not talking about turning here, are we?”

He had to think about that question. “I don’t honestly know.”

Spike ran his hand down the side of Xander’s face. “I’ll take whatever part of you I can get.”

Xander’s jaw fell open in shock. “You’re a romantic.”

“Am not!” Xander laughed at the panicked look on Spike’s face. “You take that back.”

“It’s true!” He felt a wide grin split his face. “A soppy, starry-eyed, sentimental fool!”

Spike reached over and shoved Xander’s shoulder. “Why you manky little plonker!”

“That’s not even English.” Xander returned the shove. “Speak English!”

“I’ll show you English!”

Xander should have expected some sort of retaliation, but he was totally taken by surprised when Spike leaned over, poked his fingers into Xander’s ribs and start tickling. He squirmed away, or tried to, but with Spike’s superior strength, it wasn’t as easy as he expected. They wrestled about, Xander’s screams getting in the way of his launching a counter attack – it was hard to fight back when you were short-breathed with laughter.

It didn’t take long before they landed on the floor, rolling over and over, knocking the coffee table on its side and sending their thankfully mostly-empty beer bottles rolling across the room. When they finally began to settle down, Xander found himself trapped under Spike’s body, his hands held above his head. Xander stared up at him, smiling, perfectly content to stay in this moment forever, if he could.

Spike leaned down, his lips barely touching Xander’s, brushing a feather-light kiss across them. They didn’t usually kiss like this, Xander was used to The Bastard being in charge when they got all groiny, but this was different, and Xander raised his head, trying to hold onto the kiss as long as he could. So Spike kissed him again, and again, until one blended into a dozen, sweet and romantic, and totally perfect.

A long time later, Spike pulled them both back onto the couch, and they lay wrapped around each other, Xander’s head on Spike’s chest, Spike’s fingers running gently through Xander’s hair. As he drifted off to sleep he thought he heard Spike whisper.

“I don’t want to lose either one of you.”

 

 *******

 

Xander woke with a start, disoriented and gasping for breath. He coughed harshly, a nasty taste in his mouth. Raising his head, he realized Spike’s chest was wet - covered with blood. It looked like old blood, dark and thick and foul. It took Xander a moment to realize it was coming out of his mouth and nose. He pushed himself backwards, struggling to his feet, as Spike opened his eyes, blinking up at him, confusedly.

“Xander!”

Spike moved quickly, just in time to catch Xander as his knees gave out from under him. He tried to speak, but the room was spinning around him, and then the world went black.


	13. Bleeding Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for Chapters Eleven and Thirteen taken from LJ's tamingthemuse prompt #280: Thousand.

“Watcher.”

“Spike?” The watcher’s voice was scratchy with sleep, the phone making him sound thin and thready. “Where are you?”

“It’s Xander.”

“What? What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Hospital. Come as quick as you can. I think –” He found it hard to speak. “I think Xander’s dying.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Spike hung up the phone, and lit up a fag. They wouldn’t let him smoke in the waiting room. They’d threatened to kick him out if he made a fuss. It had taken all his willpower to not vamp out and scare the piss out of the nurse who’d taken the cigarette right out of his hand, but he was afraid that they wouldn’t let him back in, and he had to be close in case Xander needed him.

She’d promised she’d come get him if there was any change, so he’d agreed to go outside for a fag, just to calm his nerves. He’d seen the phone right outside the emergency room entrance and realized what he needed to do. If anyone could help Xander, it would be the watcher or the witches, not these idiots that rushed around, talking about blood disorders and anomalies, hemorrhages and internal bleeding with no source. Spike could tell them, but they wouldn’t listen if he did. They wouldn't understand, but the watcher would. Xander may never forgive him for calling Giles, but at least he’d be alive, and that was all that mattered.

He’d just crushed out his third cigarette when the watcher pulled into the emergency parking lot. His hair was a mess and his shirt half unbuttoned, but Spike breathed a sigh of relief. Who gave a bloody fuck what he looked like? It was the carryall in one hand that was important. The watcher had come prepared.

“Where is he?”

Spike grabbed his arm and hustled him inside, “They’ve got him in surgery, but they can’t find a reason for all the blood. He won’t stop bleeding, Rupert, and they don’t know what to do.”

“I take it that’s his blood on your shirt, then?”

Spike looked down; he’d forgotten he was covered in Xander’s blood, although he didn’t know how he could have. It smelled old and rank, not even human. It was rancid; no wonder he’d been sick to his stomach since he got here. At least it explained why the other people in the OR waiting room kept staring at him.

“Right. Do you think you can do something? Without him in the same room, I mean? He’ll bleed out soon, if you don’t.”

“Willow’s on her way with Tara. We’ll wait for them to arrive. If we have something of Xander’s we might be able to slow the bleeding, although I doubt that will heal him. We need to know the spell that’s done this before we can counteract it.”

Spike nodded tersely. He’d thought as much. “Stop the bleeding, first, then I’ll tell you everything. Deal?”

“You know, this would have been much easier, if you’d only told us the first time we asked.” Spike ground his teeth. This was not the time for the watcher’s self-righteous blatherings.

“Not now, Watcher.” He pulled the watcher around, and stuck a finger into his chest, anger and fear for Xander rushing through him until there was nothing left but a white rage. “I don’t have the patience for your sanctimonious bullshit. If it weren’t Xander’s life on the line, I’d just as soon split you in half like an overripe melon. I did what I had to do, and there’s no sense in rehashing it, it’s over. So shut the hell up and take care of Xander, or chip or not, I will find a way to make you suffer. Is that clear?”

Giles was pale as a sheet. He gaped at Spike for a moment, then swallowed, blinking. “My apologies, Spike.” He glanced around the hallway at the nurses and orderlies scurrying by, a few staring boldly as they walked past. “You’re quite right, this is neither the time not the place. We need to concentrate on Xander now.”

Spike stepped back. “Right.” He looked back in the direction of the ER entrance – the sound of tires squealing to a stop outside made him shake his head. “It sounds like they let Buffy drive. I’d be surprised if there’s any tread left on those tires.”

Giles looked back at the entrance as Willow and Tara barreled through, on their way to the nurse’s station. When they saw Giles and Spike, they changed directions and came running down the hall, Willow’s arms full of books, and Tara’s with several bags.

Willow was already babbling at fifty feet away, her eyes panicked but determined. “Where is he? What’s going on? He’s okay, isn’t he? He’s going to be okay, right? Whatever it is, we can fix it. We have to fix it.”

At least Tara waited until they stopped to ask her questions. “Spike. A-a-are you okay? Is that your bl-blood?”

Spike shook his head. “Not mine, Glinda. It’s Xander’s. He’s bleeding out, and they can’t find a way to stop it.”

“What?” Red’s panicked voice got louder. “Giles. We have to help him!”

Giles shook his head. “Not here, Willow. Let’s get to the OR waiting room. We can sort this out from there.”

They left Tara in the hallway, waiting for Buffy to park the car, Giles and Willow already nose deep in dusty old books, comparing ideas on how to stop the bleeding and give them time to figure out how to reverse the spell. Buffy gave Spike the evil eye when she showed up, but Giles took her aside and gave her a nicer version of the speech Spike had used on him in the hall, and she finally calmed down.

It didn’t take long to find a spell that would at least slow down the bleeding that didn’t require them to be in the same room with Xander. The problem was they needed something of Xander’s to act as a catalyst. In the end, it was Glinda that came up with a solution to their problem, and saved Spike a trip to their apartment.

“We can u-u-use Xander’s blood.”

Buffy wasn’t impressed. “What? We just waltz up to the desk, and ask them to fill up a bowl for us?”

Tara shook her head. “T-t-take off your shirt, Spike.”

Spike laughed, slipping out of his duster, and pulling the t-shirt, stiff with Xander’s dried blood, off over his head. “You’re one smart cookie, Glinda.”

She smiled at him serenely. “Thank you.”

“Yes, excellent idea, Tara.” She blushed at Giles’ praise, and Willow took her hand, smiling proudly.

The spell was completed in mere seconds, and then there was nothing left to do but wait and see if it did the trick. Spike desperately wanted to get another smoke, but he wasn’t about to leave the waiting room now, so he paced, earning scowls from the other people waiting, but he didn’t care. If he didn’t pace, he’d end up vamping out and sending them all running, and he had an idea that wouldn’t go over well. He’d have to talk to them about the spell soon, and that disturbed him. He was reluctant to recount the details, but he knew they’d want to know everything that happened. Too much of it was private, between him and Xander; it was nobody’s business but theirs.

They wouldn’t see it that way, though, and he understood the reasoning – with a spell, who knew what was important and what was merely window dressing? Only the spell caster and he’d been long gone by the time Xander and Spike had stumbled over his work. Blood and sex magic was strong stuff, and that spell had packed a hell of a punch.

It tore Spike up to think that this was the end of everything between the two of them. Once Xander was his old self again, he’d never have anything to do with Spike again. He’d never be able to forgive Spike for knowing what was going on and not telling anyone, not even Xander. It was Spike’s own fault for falling for a human. He’d never been one for playing with his food, he’d left that for the sadists. He liked a good game of seduction; there was nothing to say he couldn’t get his end off while he was feeding, but he didn’t get attached to humans, not even the Renfields he and Dru had occasionally taken on when they needed someone around to take care of dayside tasks.

The chip had changed things. Suddenly, he was stuck hanging about with humans, and he’d gone and got himself addicted to a boy a hundred years his junior, and separated by what felt like a thousand lifetimes worth of experience. And then there was The Bastard. He was cruel and vicious, hungry for life, and Spike quite worshiped him. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without him, he was so much a part of Spike’s life, now.

“The Harris family?”

They all rushed over, overwhelming the nurse, if her wide eyes were anything to go by.

“How is he?” Spike was glad Giles had asked, he couldn’t get a word out of his mouth.

She smiled at him. “He’s doing much better, Mr. Harris.”

Giles opened his mouth to protest the title, but it looked like he thought better of it. Spike agreed. If they thought Giles was Xander’s father, it might be easier to get into a room with him.

“He’s stopped bleeding, then?”

“Yes, the bleeding stopped about fifteen minutes ago.” There was a collective sigh from the group. “We’re still watching him, but he’s out of surgery. We’ll let you know when we transfer him to ICU. Hopefully we can let you in to see him for a few minutes, then.”

Spike closed his eyes, his relief overwhelming him. He didn’t realize he was swaying until he felt Buffy’s hand on his arm.

“Maybe you’d better sit down, Spike. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

He sat in the closest chair, sagging into its support. He hadn’t realized how drained he was until he’d relaxed his tightly held control and the wave of exhaustion had hit him. He looked up in surprise when a blue scrub shirt was thrust under his nose.

He laughed. The relief must be making him lightheaded. “What’s this then? Is my bare chest distracting you, Willow?”

She blushed. “Well, you just looked strange with your coat on, with nothing underneath it, like that.”

He winked at her and she giggled. He was definitely giddy.

Giles sat down on the coffee table in front of Spike. “If we’re done with the flirting, then, I think we need some answers.”

Spike sighed. It was going to be a long day.

 

***

 

From the emergency waiting room, to the surgery waiting room, to the intensive care waiting room – this was definitely getting old. He walked in, spotting Giles and Tara talking quietly, heads together over a large book that was probably older than Spike. Giles looked up when he approached, staring curiously at the large bundle Spike carried under one arm. They cleared a space for it on the table in front of them, and he set it down, unwrapping it quickly.

“This is it?” Willow walked up behind him, passing a soda to Tara.

Buffy examined it critically. “Doesn’t look like much.” She pointed to the rag Spike had set down beside it. “What’s that?”

He spoke bluntly, tired of all the waiting, ready to get this over with. “Blood and come.”

“Ewww.” She sat as far away from it as she could get and still be in the conversation.

“From both of you?” Giles didn’t look happy, either, but at least he didn’t make a scene.

“Yeah. Xander’s blood is on the board itself, but there’s some on the rag as well. I cleaned us both up with this, and tossed the rag on the board as I left.”

“How did yo-your blood get on the rag?”

“He bit me.” Spike grinned at the look of shock on Tara’s face, but she shouldn’t ask questions, if she didn’t want answers.

“So we can figure out how to get him unpossessed with this?”

Spike frowned at Buffy. “He’s not possessed. This thing just brought out the side of him that most people keep hidden.”

Buffy bristled at that. “Xander is not a ‘sadistic bastard’!”

“Buffy, please.” Giles tried to reason with her. “We all have the potential for evil; this spell simply released the inhibitions that usually allow Xander to keep that side of himself contained.”

“And once you get rid of the spell, he’ll go back to being our Xander again?”

“Yes.” Willow’s voice was strong. She was so certain of herself. “He’ll be ours again once we’re through.” Those words struck hard at Spike. Xander should be his, just as he was Xander’s.

“It’s not that easy, Willow. He can’t unlearn the things he’s learned about himself while he was under the spell. He won’t be exactly the same person.”

Spike knew better than to speak up, but Xander had been chaffing under their images of him forever. “He wasn’t your ‘old Xander’ before this happened. He was changing, growing up, becoming a man. He’s not going to be the boy you went to high school with ever again. You’re going to have to start treating him with more respect, if you expect him to do the same for you.”

Willow’s face was set. There was no changing her mind, he could see that. “You don’t know him, Spike. Not like we do. He’ll be our old Xander again. You’ll see.”

Spike turned his back and left them there. They didn’t need him anymore. Xander didn’t need him anymore. Xander was right, it was time to move on. He’d always wanted to go to Australia. Lots of sun, there, but he’d heard Sydney was a right treat in the nighttime.


	14. Heart to Heart

“Xander!”

“Hey Giles. You busy?” Xander glanced into the room behind Giles to where he had a book and a notepad of paper open on his table.

“Is something wrong?”

Xander shrugged. “Nah. Not really. I mean… Well, maybe.” He hesitated. He didn’t want to do this, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do. He had to discuss this with someone, and Giles was his only option. “Can we talk?”

“Of course.” Giles held the door open and Xander came in, slouching down onto one of the stools by the bar.

“Thanks, G-man.”

Giles shook his head with a sigh, but didn’t even bother trying to correct him. “I was about to prepare some tea.” He looked a question at Xander, who shook his head.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine. Not much of a tea kind of guy. Spike, he was always having ‘a cuppa’,” he made air quotes around the phrase, trying his best to imitate Spike’s accent. “But I like my tea with ice and lots of sugar, and he thought that was like…sacrilege, or something.”

“Yes, well it seems that Spike and I have something in common, after all,” he said dryly.

Giles had busied himself with preparing his tea, but he took a moment to give Xander a long glance. It made him nervous enough that Xander checked his shirt front to make sure he hadn’t spilled anything on himself.

“What seems to be the problem, Xander?”

“Oh, you know. It’s just… Well. I’ve just got a lot on my mind and I can’t seem to sort it out.” He had no idea how to start this conversation, and that definitely upped the babble factor. “I was hoping that maybe you could… Well, I asked Willow, but she kinda freaked on me, and Buffy, there’s no way I’d ever ask Buffy. I mean she still hasn’t gotten over the me and Spike show, let alone the whole whips and chains thing, that would totally blow her away.”

Giles looked up at him in surprise. “Whips and chains?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He swallowed. “I went to the library, to use their computer, but it told me I wasn’t allowed to search porn sites, and that’s not what I wanted, but that’s all I could get out of it. And I don’t know who else to ask.”

“What…” That deer in the headlights panic thing was definitely not a good look on Giles. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Well, you know about me and Spike. I mean The Bastard and Spike, not me and Spike, ‘cause me and Spike, all we ever got up to was some heavy petting, hardly made it to third base, but The Bastard and Spike – well, the stuff they did was…” He shook his head, trying to clear the images out. It wasn’t working. “I don’t know how to even describe it.”

Giles was watching him attentively, and he sighed. He was going to have to come out with it if he was going to get any answers. “There were times he took the skin right off Spike’s back, Giles, and the things he said - the way he treated Spike. It just wasn’t right. Nobody should treat anyone that way. The thing he did with his fist…that was –”

“His fist?” Giles’ eyebrows were raised so high they were about to merge with his hairline.

“With Spike’s ass and the fist and Giles, it scares me, ‘cause I liked it, and that makes me a bad person, and I don’t know what to do.” He buried his face in his hands, afraid to see the disappointed look on Giles’ face.

“The Bastard liked it.”

Xander shook his head. “No, I liked it,” he told his hands. “I like it when Spike kneels at my feet – it makes me feel powerful and how can I like that, Giles, it’s wrong.”

“Xander. It’s not wrong.”

“What?” He brought his hands down, sure that he’d misheard Giles. The G-man had his glasses off, and he looked mighty embarrassed, but he didn’t seem to be backing down.

“Have you heard of Domination and submission?”

“Well, I know what those words mean, but I have a feeling that’s not what you’re talking about.”

“Well, in a way it is. I could go into detail on the etymology of the words, but I know I’d bore you to tears, and prolong this painful conversation, so I’ll hurry to the point. Most relationships, whether sexual or not have an element of inequality built into them. Parent and child, teacher and student, employer and employee, Queen and subject – someone is in charge and someone takes the orders.

“It’s a natural give and take. Some people feel more natural giving orders, and some have no problems taking them. This translates into the sexual realm in many ways, and in Domination and submission those roles become especially important. There’s nothing wrong with feeling comfortable in a more Dominant role, Xander, and there’s nothing wrong with Spike preferring to be submissive in his sexual relationships.”

“You don’t think it makes him weak?”

“Good lord, no. It takes a strong man to live as long as he has, and not only survive, but thrive. And if you ever tell him I said that, I’ll take a layer of skin off your back myself.”

Xander sat up straighter in his seat. Wow. The Ripper was coming out to play, today, wasn’t he?

“There is an even more important matter to be considered in Spike’s case, and that’s the matter of his demon. The role of a sire is very similar to that of a parent in vampire clans, and I have no reason to doubt that this carries over into their sexual relationships as well.”

“Ewwww.” Xander was having enough trouble dealing with this conversation with his father figure, he couldn’t stand the thought of adding sex to his relationship with his parents.

“I’m sure that describes most human parent’s feeling on the matter, Xander. However, without the stigma of human adult/child relationships to worry about, the childer will take the submissive role to their sire, as a matter of course. I have a feeling that is hardwired into their psyches. Only when they leave their sires and strike out on their own would they become more dominant.”

“Huh.” Xander had trouble seeing Dru as dominant over Spike, but at the same time, he knew for a fact that Spike had always gone wherever Dru wanted to go, and done what she wanted him to, as long as it didn’t hurt her.

“Spike spent the last century with his sire. True, he had to take on a caretaking role with her, due to her difficulties with reality, and the strength of her visions, but I doubt very much that he was ever truly dominant with her, despite his responsibilities. Besides, humans who struggle with tremendous responsibility on a daily basis often seek to lay that burden aside when they are allowed to relax.”

“So you’re saying that Spike may want someone to take the dominant role with him, to give him an escape from his responsibilities?”

“Exactly.”

There was a flaw in that thinking, though. “But he’s not taking care of Dru anymore.”

“He did for over a century, Xander. Is it so much to expect that he might want someone else to make the decisions for a while?”

That was a big chunk of the scary part for Xander. “But I’m not all decision boy. I mean, I can’t tell Spike what to do.”

Giles shook his head. “Not all the time, no. You’re not a demon, you don’t want to rule his life. You just want a chance to take charge for a while. And be the one looked up to, and respected, despite how you’re treated outside the bedroom.”

“Oh, great.” Now they were getting to the heart of it. This was sounding very familiar. “So I’m the failure that needs to pretend to be in charge, ‘cause I can’t handle it in the real world?”

“That’s not what I mean at all, Xander. You have responsibility at your job. They’re still considering you for a foreman’s position, despite your failure to come to work for over a month. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“Well, yeah, but I had you to call in while I was AWOL and tell them I had a family emergency in Poland. Thanks for that, by the way. They’re still telling Pollock jokes at the site.” He sighed. It made sense to him in a weird kind of way. The loser needing the chance to be important because no one else thought of him that way.

“But I am the one who needs to be in charge, Giles. I crave it.”

“I know. I understand.” Giles must have seen the doubt in his look. “I do understand. It’s quite natural. And if it comes naturally to you to be in charge, then you shouldn’t try to fight it.”

A sudden suspicion smacked Xander in the head. Surely not. “You sound very well versed on all this, G-man.”

The flush on Giles’ cheeks was a dead giveaway. “Yes, well, let’s just say that it took me some time to understand my own urges. In that regard, I’m much more like you than you might imagine.”

The image in Xander’s head hurt his brain. “You mean you and Ms Calendar…?”

“Good lord, no!” Xander breathed a sigh of relief. Giles fidgeted with his cup. “But in my youth, I may have given in to some of my - wilder appetites. I had a strong and quite passionate relationship with a young man who was very much the submissive in bed.”

Okay, that was unexpected. “Giles, you old devil you!”

Giles pulled his dignity together, and ignored Xander’s outburst. “So you see, Xander, it’s not that unusual. If you decide to pursue this relationship with Spike, which I refuse to encourage on principle, I would suggest the two of you talk about how you wish to proceed, and come to an agreement on what is acceptable and what is not before you do anything else. I might be able to find some information for you on the subject, but I have a feeling that if you follow your instincts, you can’t go wrong.”

Xander felt himself deflating when he realized why that was never going to happen. “Spike’s leaving, Giles.”

“He is?” Obviously the G-man wasn’t in the loop either.

“He told Willow and Tara last week. Besides, he doesn’t want me. Buffy says he didn’t even stick around to make sure the spell worked before he was out the door. He left me. Now that the spell is broken, he won’t want me anymore.”

“Xander. As much as I hate to say this, I think you are wrong. Just as the spell could not force you into something you did not have in you already, I think Spike’s feelings for you were real, or he would not have been attracted to you in the first place. You should talk to him, Xander. And if he has plans to leave, you should do it immediately.”

Xander sat there, pole axed, staring into space. His world was rearranging itself around him, and it was a lot brighter than it was a few minutes ago.

“And don’t tell anyone I said that, or I shall call you a liar to your face.”

Xander blinked back into focus, grinning hugely. “Thanks, G-man!”

“You’re perfectly welcome.” Giles glanced down at his cold cup of tea. “Now, go away. I need scotch, and I need to repress this entire conversation immediately.”

Xander clapped Giles on the shoulder, and left Giles to his scotch.


	15. Bastard with a Small b

Spike set his bag by the door. Not much to show for all his time in Sunnyhell. But then, there wasn’t really that much he wanted to remember either. He thought of the boxes Clem was storing for Xander – things from their weeks in Clem’s mate’s flat. He’d told Clem to wait a while before he tried to talk to Xander. Spike had a feeling Xander would still get on well with Clem. They’d be over at Xander’s flat munching on crisps and playing video games in no time, but he thought it best to give him a month or two to let the memories fade. He’d forget Spike. Spike wished he could say the same about Xander.

He heard the heartbeat coming a mile away, and the scuffling outside the door set his teeth on edge. When Xander didn’t seem to be willing to come in the door, Spike finally opened it. Might as well get this over with, he had places to be. No matter how he’d steeled himself, the first sight of Xander made his heart ache. He refused to give that up to Xander.

“What are you doing here?” There, that was sufficiently harsh.

Xander looked like a fish out of water, his mouth working with nothing coming out. “What do you think I’m doing here?”

Charming conversationalist, as usual. “No clue. Go away now; I’m getting ready to lock up.” He gave Xander a push, trying to get him to take the hint and step back. It didn’t work. Instead he shoved forward, and Spike fell back to avoid setting off the chip.

“Are you taking a trip?”

He sounded nervous, although Spike had no idea what he had to be nervous about. Spike was the one out of place here. He was taking care of that right now, if Xander would let him. He closed the door behind Xander, no sense in letting everyone know their business.

“What’s it to you?”

“You’re not going anywhere without me.”

Spike felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle. He could have sworn that The Bastard was in the room. “What?”

“I mean it.” Xander prowled in his direction. “We had this conversation already. You go where I go. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Spike was starting to catch on now. Xander was playing him, trying to get him back for his using Xander while they were under the spell. “You’re barkers. You don’t want me around, and you know it.”

“I do.”

He could tell the difference now. There was a hesitation in his delivery; he wasn’t quite as masterful as he was trying to act. Well, fuck him. He wasn’t going to be taken for a fool. Not again.

“The Bastard wanted me around.” He walked right up to Xander, looking him up and down dismissively. “You’re not him.”

“Yes, I am.” He sounded like a boy playing a part. “Spike.” Xander put his hand out, coming close, but not quite touching Spike’s arm before turning and pacing away. “He’s not all I am, but I am him. I’m both The Bastard and The Boy. That’s what you told me, and that’s what I have to figure out.”

“Figure out?” He was sounding more like himself now - the Bumbling Boy who cared too much.

“I need to learn how to balance the two, so I can be them both, and not be torn apart like I was during the spell. That’s what I was hoping you could help me with.”

“Me?” Spike was confused, now. He didn’t understand what he was trying to pull. “How the bloody hell could I do that?”

“You’re a lot wiser than me.” Spike raised one eyebrow, and Xander grinned and shrugged. “Sometimes. You have a lot more experience with the world. There aren’t many people I can trust with both parts of me, Spike, but I trust you.”

There it was again. Trust. How could Xander trust him? “You do?”

“I do.”

Spike shook his head. Xander must be crazy.

“I’m not sure how to go about this, because I’ve only ever been The Bastard when I was under a spell, but Giles said I should follow my instincts, and my instincts say that you and me? We belong together.”

“Giles said that, did he?” Now he knew something was wrong.

He grinned. “Yeah, but if you tell him I said so, he’ll set the Ripper loose on me, so that has to stay between you and me, all right?”

Xander’s grin died, and he walked up to Spike, this time he put his hand on Spike’s arm, and Spike closed his eyes and felt the heat soak into his skin.

“I want you Spike.”

Spike’s eyes popped open. He wanted to believe what Xander was saying, but he found it difficult. He pulled away from Xander, it was too hard to think when he was that close. “You sure about that? You need to think about what you’re saying, here. I’m a demon. We do these things differently, you know.”

“I know. I’ll have to deal with that. And you’ll have to deal with the fact that I’m human. Because without the spell, I can’t be The Bastard all the time.”

“You weren’t the bastard all the time even with the spell.”

Xander nodded. “I was trying to be. I think if it had gone on much longer, I would have been.”

Spike had had a lot of time to think about that since the night Xander had almost died. “I think you’re right.”

“I don’t want to be just The Bastard.”

Spike sighed, admitting the truth. “That’s not what I want either.”

“Then you do want me?” Xander perked up at that.

“I guess so.” He wasn’t going to go down easy.

“Oh, none of that shit.” Xander’s eyes were hard, and Spike jerked back as if stung. “You’re either on board with this, or I’ll walk out that door right now. Do you want me, or not?”

Spike let loose a bark of laughter. “I guess the bastard is still in there, somewhere, huh?”

“Shut up and get down on your knees.”

Spike fell to his knees before he’d even registered the change in Xander’s voice. “Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff.” His cock was rigid in an instant, and he felt his pain and his worries melt away at the same time.

“Suck my cock.”

He crawled over to Xander on his hands and knees, and ran his face up the inseam of his pants until he was face to face with the object of his desires. He had no idea when Xander had unzipped and pulled himself out, but it was clear that Spike wasn’t the only one who could get hard at the drop of a hat. He set himself to worshiping Xander’s cock, licking and sucking and nipping at his balls, knowing that Xander liked that kind of tease.

Spike swallowed him down, working the muscles of his throat around the head until Xander grabbed his hair and fucked his face roughly, just the way they both liked it. Spike was disappointed when Xander pulled him off, and he tried to keep contact with his thick cock, sticking his tongue out and curling it around the head, but Xander grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him back so far his neck was arched out like a sacrificial offering. He bent over and scraped his teeth across Spike’s jugular, and Spike moaned loudly.

“Please!”

Xander laughed and pulled Spike to his feet, practically throwing him at the wall. “Strip. Face the wall. Hands above your head.”

Hurrying to comply, Spike tried to come up with a way to let Xander know there was lube in the bag at his feet without getting himself into trouble. He usually wouldn’t mind a bit of punishment, but knowing Xander like he did, he’d probably insist Spike not come, and it had been most of a month since he’d got his end away. There was no way in hell he was letting the bastard do that to him.

He froze for a second. The bastard? He heard Xander dropping his pants behind him, and hurried to finish undressing. The bastard. Maybe that was the difference. Xander could be the bastard, without being The Bastard. Maybe that was all it took. Probably not. It couldn’t be that simple. But maybe it was a place to start. He’d mention it to Xander when he wasn’t about to get royally fucked.

As he turned to face the wall, he saw the gleam of slick on Xander’s cock. Spike grinned. He should have known he’d be well prepared. He leaned against the wall, his hands over his head, his legs spread wide and his hard cock bobbing between his legs. He needed this. He thought maybe they both did: a reaffirmation of the bond between them. It was fitting. Then he felt the chill of Xander’s slick fingers spreading him wide, and he stopped thinking altogether.

Xander pressed close, his cock sliding between Spike’s cheeks. He didn’t try to prepare Spike, just pressed on in, making Spike groan, the burn of his body stretching to accept that fat cock turning to fire under his skin, searing him from the inside out. Xander set up a quick pace, pounding into Spike, practically knocking him off his feet with every thrust. He raised one hand and locked his fingers with Spike’s and Spike twisted his head around awkwardly so they could kiss.

He wasn’t surprised when it didn’t take long before Xander’s steady driving thrusts became ragged, and lost their regularity; he couldn’t keep up that kind of intensity for long, the human body wasn’t built like that. It wasn’t a problem for Spike anyway, as he’d been fighting back his orgasm since the moment Xander had first slid into him. He pushed back against Xander, urging him on, and when he could tell he was almost ready to come, he offered his neck to Xander. Xander bit, his teeth tearing through the flesh and sending Spike soaring into his orgasm, despite his efforts to hold it back.

They slid down the wall into a well-used heap, gasping and leaning on each other heavily. Xander reached out, flailing wildly until he snagged his pants, pulling them close enough that he could rummage through his pockets. He pulled out the pocket knife he’d started carrying around with him during the spell, and while Spike watched, shallowly sliced open his forearm, offering it to Spike. Spike pulled the arm to him, not wanting to waste a drop, and realized that this was the first time he’d ever really tasted Xander’s blood. There had always been a taint to it before, a faint hint of old, bitter power that was missing now, leaving behind a pure, fresh flavor that was powerful in its own way, and freely given, and it made Spike proud that Xander thought he was worthy to taste it.

When the blood stopped flowing, Spike lifted his head, and pulled Xander to him, sharing his blood between them, and tasting his own on Xander’s tongue. This time, it was just them. The way it should be.

Spike struggled to his feet, grabbing his kit, and throwing Xander’s at him.

“Going somewhere, are you?”

Spike raised one eyebrow. “We are.”

Xander looked surprised. “We are?”

“We’ve still got time to make it to Clem’s place and pick up your gear before he heads out for the night.”

Xander grinned. “Clem!”

“Yeah, he’ll be glad to see you too. He’s been asking about you for weeks. C’mon, get your kit on, Butch. We’ve got places to go.”

Xander popped up with much more enthusiasm than he’d evidenced two minutes ago. It looked like the boy was back. No, this wasn’t the boy. This Xander was more than the boy, and more than the bastard. This Xander was well on his way to being more than either of them could ever have been alone. But then he wasn’t alone anymore, was he? Neither was Spike, and that was just fine with him.

 

 **The End.**


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